Desires of the Heart
by Zapenstap
Summary: Heero and Relena explore the confusion of love and lust of a first relationship. Are they meant to be? This effort draws from real experience and is meant to reflect in some ways a realistic relationship.
1. contemplation

This is a post-GW Heero and Relena story. The plot is strictly Heero and Relena unless I get spontaneously creative in the future. This story is independent of any other story I have written, though it could conceivably follow the Mandred Chronicles as I am going to utilize Mandred as a parent-figure for Heero. However, none of my other stories need to be read first to enjoy this story because this story is strictly about Heero and Relena and I am assuming that 1xR fans know enough about them to figure it all out.  Mandred has a small role to play in this story, but I'll tell you what you need to know about him.  Also, this story may get sexually specific. Limes may eventually be included. 

Desires of the Heart 

Chapter One

By Zapenstap

            Heero sat at his own table in his own house. A book lay face down by his right hand, stopped somewhere in the middle, the spine creased from overextending the pages. A tea cup was still steaming slightly next to it, sugarless Earl Grey, not too strongly steeped. Heero himself sat facing outward, toward the trees in what might be called a backyard, staring out at the gently sloping mountains far in the distance. 

           Earth. He was growing to like living here. The colors were beautiful, rich with scent and flavor, the wild detail in the natural world an endless wonder to the senses. Space had its beauty too. A cold, calm beauty, amplified by the generosity of its struggling citizens, the peace of the Colonists who were too busy living in such an unfriendly environment to waste time bickering with one another. But it was still a cold place, cold for orphans with no family, for soldiers with no wars to fight.  He tried not to think of the war or the emptiness of space; the hollow loneliness that was in the deepest places of his heart seemed to echo with such thoughts, his history pulsating with a destiny he refused to feel shackled to. That's one reason why he moved here.

           He lifted his book off the table with a smile and scanned the lines to find his place. He wasn't a soldier anymore. Earth was as warm as it was cold, as welcoming as it was harsh, a world of toil and triumph, where the dust of the earth and the sweet juice from the fruits of the trees mingled as one in God's gift to man. Here, cowards and heroes alike were shaped, criminals and humanitarians, evil and good, darkness and light.

           Musing inwardly, Heero turned back to his book, leafing idly through the pages on a Saturday morning, ignoring his insecurities. When the doorbell rang, he was only surprised at the early hour of his guest's arrival. He would have thought Duo would be one to sleep in late and procrastinate on his social errands.

           Heero got up immediately, folding the page in his book to save his place, and walked to the front door. Duo's big eyes greeted him, one fist poised to knock on the door, mouth slightly parted. Studying the other pilot silently, Heero pondered not for the first time that it was mostly Duo's eyes that made him look like such a fool. Their size just seemed to make him look childish, ever curious and questioning. 

           "Come in," Heero said blankly. "I had expected you a little later, but I'm not doing anything now."

           Duo stepped inside and pulled off his leather gloves, shivering a little in the November chill as he adjusted to the warmth of the house. "Nice place you have here. You stayin' this time?"

           "I have no plans to move anywhere else right now," Heero said as they walked into the kitchen and sat at the table. "Do you want any tea?"

           Duo sat casually, leaning back with one arm extended across the table and the rest of his body slouching in his seat. "No thanks. I don't really like the stuff," he said with a polite decline, or as close as Duo ever came to being polite, not that Heero could talk. "Thanks for having me over," Duo added cheerily. "I know it's a little weird always running into you. It's weird for me too, and not just you, but also the others. I can't decide if, being comrades, we should leave our ties behind with the wars or try to be friends. But I figured that as long as I'm in town, I wanted to see how you were doing."

           "I'm well," Heero said. He might have added that he was lonely sometimes, but he didn't. It wasn't something he would say, and not even something he would think much about if he hadn't been thinking of other things first. In this case, Duo's comment prompted the thought. Usually it was because he was thinking about Relena. "Is Hilde taking care of your business?" he asked conversationally.

           "Yeah," Duo replied. "I'm surprised you remembered her name."

           "I pay more attention than some people seem to think."

           Duo shrugged. "If you say so, but I would argue otherwise. You're different. You've changed a lot since I first met you, and that's no mistake. You're not so closed off nowadays. You don't offend people by looking at them.  You say more of what's on your mind. I don't get the impression that you used to be a soldier and nothing else when I look at you anymore. You have a life outside that now, or at least a fair start at one."

           Heero didn't comment. There really wasn't anything to say to something like that, though it had been said before.  Heero remembered the way he was, of course, and at the time it was who he had wanted to be. At the time, he had thought it was the only way to be, especially for someone like him, but a lot had changed since then.  He had made a decision.  Though he could not erase the past, he could take steps to change the future.  He was a different person now.

           "I've had a lot of time to myself to think," he said, and took a sip of his. 

            Duo looked around.  "Yeah, I guess.  Living in a house, taking care of a dog…" His eyes drifted to where Heero's black lab Ted was curled up on the floor.  "And all that time you spent in the Colonies after the war with that Mandred guy.  What was he, your mentor or something?  Somebody you knew in the past?"

            "He helped build the Wing Zero.  He knew me when I was training." Heero shook his head, not wishing to think about those days.  "You say I'm different?  You might be right.  I used to live day to day, planning for the next battle if I planned for anything. Maybe I'm different now because life is different. When the battles ended I wasn't sure how I would get along…"

           "I didn't either," Duo agreed quietly, and for a moment, a lost look in Duo's eyes matched the one Heero sometimes felt.

           Ignoring it, Heero continued without pause, "…but it turns out that I can, as long as I focus on the present and live in the world that exists around me." He inhaled the steam of his tea and closed his eyes. Then he looked out the window, at the sky, where the white day moon showed above the mountaintops. He gazed dropped and subconsciously the thought came to him that somewhere out in that direction there was a city, and on one of the highest floors of one of the tallest buildings there was a slim blonde woman rifling through a pile of papers.  "I left space and came to the Earth because I knew I needed an outward change to match the rest of changes in living this way. Quatre was right. It is very beautiful here. I didn't used to see it so clearly."

           Duo followed his gaze and then chuckled as if something had occurred to him. "How old are you Heero?" he asked casually.

           Heero blinked, though he showed not other outward sign of surprise.  "Nineteen, nearly twenty. Why?"

           "Well, I travel a lot on business and when I run across one of the others, they sometimes ask about you."

           Heero tried to reign in a glower.  Duo's tone was all too suggestive.

           Duo smiled, leaning forward on his elbows. "Well, generally they inquire all the usual sort of pleasantries, but one thing always comes up. See, they all have a different way of saying it. Trowa asks kind of off-hand, but Quatre has a real, genuinely sincere inquisitiveness. I will admit that Wufei's a little insulting, but…"

           "What are you getting at?" Heero demanded, not losing patience, but nevertheless urging the conclusions of such cryptic remarks.

           "I get that you feel you have nothing tying you to space except perhaps some bad memories and unnecessary habits, but popular opinion agrees that your main reason for moving to the Earth, especially in this country, is that Relena lives about twenty minutes north of you," Duo said. "So, have you seen her at all?"

           Heero did not react the way Duo might have wanted him to. He had guessed where Duo was going before he got there, and it didn't surprise him. "I have seen her," he said calmly. "I visit her every now and then when I go to the city." 

           Duo waited with what felt like breathless anticipation. Only seconds had passed before he finally spoke, but from the way his eyes bulged, it might have seemed as if Heero had left him dangling for an hour. "And?" he inquired. "Come on, Heero.  If you don't like her the way everybody seems to assume, just say so, but if you do, you might as well act on it."

           "What do you mean?" Heero said. "And why would you think I can answer that question? It makes even less sense to me." The feelings were difficult to understand, to bend to his will.

           Duo just shook his head. "You _do_ like her."

           "Yes, I like her. I risked my life to protect her. I fought for her peace. Everybody likes her."

           "You know that's not what I mean."

           No, it wasn't, and Heero understood perfectly well. He had thought on it for a long time, hours, even days at a time. He tried to analyze the way he felt when he saw her, wondering why the way her hair moved caught his attention, the way the trimness of her body and the shape of her face seemed more appealing to him that the bodies of faces of other people. He was aware that it was perfectly normal, perfectly human, and he took such feelings in stride as he did everything, but what to make of them, or what to do about them, he just wasn't sure. 

           "I like her," he said at last, not meeting Duo's eyes. "I have for a long time."

           Duo sat back as if stunned, both hands flat and still on the table. "I'm not sure I ever really thought you would admit it.  You know, she looks real good these days. And, well… everybody thinks she wants you.  I mean, everybody who knows her personally.  Why don't you ask her to be your girlfriend?" 

           "Is that how it works?" Heero muttered mostly to himself. "I don't know. I see her every once and awhile but I don't feel as if that's an option." Not to mention that it scared him. She did look good these days, and something in him had noticed, but the feelings associated with such thoughts were foreign to him.  He knew that what he wanted was inappropriate, completely impossible.  He couldn't even define their relationship as it was. She sent people away when he came to visit, and talked to him privately. Once she had taken his hand to show him something, and he had caught her staring at him from time to time, but what was that? Evidence, perhaps, of mutual interest, but what Duo suggested he knew seemed a bigger step than he was ready to take. 

           "What if you asked her out on a date?" Duo said. "That's done."

           "So I can get to know her?" Heero questioned. "I already know her." He thought about it. It would feel strange, trying to impress her that way, taking her out, buying her things…?  The thought of getting closer to her made him feel slightly dizzy, and strangely good.

           "Well, yeah, but that will let her know that you're interested in her."

           "I think she knows that already," Heero hedged. 

           Duo gave him a look to suggest otherwise, pulling slightly back and turning his head. "You're kind of a hard person to read. I wouldn't be so sure. Besides, she's the conservative type and so are you. One of you will have to do something, and as she's also the traditional type, that responsibility likely falls on you, buddy."

           Heero agreed absently, but gave no indication of it. "I'll talk to her," he said, but wouldn't give more. With the rudimentary social skills he picked up from Mandred, he changed the topic, moving on to Duo's relationship with Hilde, his business, his travels and his expectations for the future. He and Duo were completely different people, which became clearer every time they met, but they understood each other in subtle ways simply from fighting together so long. Even so, being in Duo's company made Heero think about Relena's with a strange longing. Her soft curves were preferable to Duo's lean musckes.  Her sparkling eyes were more interesting than Duo's blank stares.  He had done day-long studies of her before and talking to the braided pilot while thinking about Relena made him miss her. The way she spoke even was both soothing and engaging. Her intelligence was seeped in her words, but her intonations were relaxing, calming, like listening the waves crashing on the beach. He could do both for hours and never feel the drain.

           Duo prattled on while Heero considered, losing himself in a hazy, indistinct dream. The only thing that was clear was that, by the time Duo left, Heero was sure of what he wanted to do. How he was to do it, he didn't know, and what he wanted out of it remained unclear, but he was determined to try something all the same. Act of your emotions, that was what he had been taught, and right now his emotions were wrapped up in a young diplomat.  He didn't ask himself if he was ready for a relationship, especially with this girl, this one girl with whom he had so much history, this one girl of whom he was always thinking. It was no use wondering if the thing could be done; he just had to do it. He knew for sure that if he had never been a gundam pilot and had somewhere still remained himself, and if she had never been a diplomat or any of the other things she had become, he would still have wanted this, would still have liked her. There was something about her that was attractive, something that was like him, something he wanted to explore deeper, and though there were all sort of obstacles and distractions in the proposition he made to himself, it was no use being cowardly about it. 

           He had decided. He would go and see her today.

           He wondered, of course, how she might take it, but he hoped she would be ready, even that she might have been waiting. That, he hoped, would make things easier, but then, he really didn't know anything about this part of life, and frighteningly enough, neither did she.


	2. confrontation

Desires of the Heart

Chapter Two

By Zapenstap

            The old florist living within site of City Hall didn't look up from his bookkeeping when the little bell above his door rang as a young man stepped into the shop, but he did take note of him. The young man scanned the blooming garden with a confidence that created an illusion that he knew exactly what he had come for, but as the florist watched, he noted the youth's hesitancy as he took slow steps in a circle around the store, staring at everything from venus fly traps to the herbs growing in little pots under the window. The florist knew that what the young man actually wanted was flowers, for his eyes kept darting to the overflowing baskets of them lined up behind the desk. Smiling to himself, the florist set his pen on the page of his hand-written accounts and cleared his throat.

            "Can I help you?"

           The young man took note that he was being addressed, and turned his head and his feet at once. He had a steady step and a command over his body, despite the wariness that flickered in his deep blue eyes. He was tall for someone with clearly some Asian ancestry, and well-built, with a subtle strength that was evident by the confidence with which he moved and the sharpness in his eyes.

           "I'm looking for…a gift," he said, the hesitancy barely noticeable. "Flowers of some kind."

            "For a girl?" the florist ventured, leaning forward over the desk to fix the flower arrangement placed there. "What sort of sentiment would you like to entail?"

            The youth paused more obviously. "I don't know," he said at length, hands now in the pockets of his brown, zip-up jacket. "I just want some flowers."

            The florist nodded and selected a bouquet of his own judgment, steering away from the blatantly obvious red roses and instead selecting something more colorful and of greater variety. He questioned his customer on his liking of dalias, carnations, orchids, and variety of other favorites before surrounding a selection of pinks, reds and purples in green fern leaves and wrapping the whole arrangement with white paper. The young man paid for the bouquet in cash. 

           The florist chuckled as he watched him go, musing about this one. There was always someone every once and awhile with that exact same expression. The old florist was always delighted when he saw those customers again, especially if they came in the next time with a pretty girl and a smile.

******

           Relena sat on the couch with her feet curled up under her, sipping a cup of steaming hot cocoa and watching the news on television. It was early afternoon and her lunch break, though the work she did now was so much less than it used to be that she might spend any amount of time she wished lounging these days, though she had a meeting today. This room was located in City Hall, a break room for any of the employees, though since it was an odd hour for lunch (almost 3clock) is was empty of anyone but herself now. 

            In her mind she was going over her plans for the weekend, which included a hike up the into the mountains with Olivia Jameston, a bluntly-spoken environmental activist who wanted to point out the quintessential natural scenes that needed saving if the Vice Foreign Minister (who had no real authority in any environmental program other than what power came with her reputation) took the time to appreciate them. Relena was open to such strange means of lobbying only because she desired to go on a hike and Olivia was a likeable person.

           She had also gotten a call from Quatre Winner the other day, the only gundam pilot she really knew well enough to keep in touch with (except Heero, when he sometimes stopped by) and had agreed to a luncheon next time she was in L3 on her normal diplomatic affairs. She believed that both she and Quatre were secretly social creatures who were dismal failures in executing it. They were both busy and strangely intimidating people, though from their respective personalities they oughtn't to have been the latter. That they were often busy went without saying, of course, but there was more time for relaxing and living these days then there had been since before the war. Besides, she liked Quatre, in the ways that he was similar to her, and she had not seen him in awhile.

           At length, Relena set down her mug and stood up, stretching her back. She had a meeting today with some Executives businessman who were instrumental in a project she was involved in regarding rebuilding efforts in the Mediterranean. Slipping her heeled shoes back on and shaking the wrinkled out of her skirt, Relena checked her appearance in the mirror. She had elected to wear a suit that almost resembled something a school girl might wear, except that she was old enough now not to look so much like a school girl. Her skirt was blue and just above the knees, her top a white collared blouse with loose cuffs that half concealed her hands, and a blue vest that matched her skirt covered her torso. Her hair was certainly getting long again these days. Today it was curled into ringlets at the ends, and all of it was held away from her face by a black headband. Carefully, she adjusted a few misplaced strands, and then strode out the door.

           She was the first to arrive in the Council Room as she had designed, and for the first few minutes simply began arranging things the way she would like them. A few of her office staff promptly brought in the papers she had requested, along with a few contracts she hoped she would have the opportunity to propose if all went well. She smiled as she worked, and by the time the executives arrived, she was standing at the door ready to greet them. Once all the members were seated, the negotiations began.

           It basically boiled down to the executives wishing to spend as little as possible with the highest insurance and Relena maneuvering them into larger realms of investing. She called it investing because she hoped it would be well worth it, not only for the people whom it would directly benefit, but for the businessmen as well. She understood that all parties must gain something significant for the deal to fly, for most people were not simply charitable.

           At half-past four, the negotiations were drawing to a close. In the end, Relena was commended for her humanitarian efforts as well as her diplomatic relations. The executives remarked how refreshing it was to deal with so honest and reliable a person as herself. Relena accepted such compliments with humble grace and thanked them individually and profusely for their cooperation. As they rose from their chairs, she rose with them, shaking hands all around. The edges of her personality that had hardened during the war when she vied with Romafeller had relaxed considerably in these peaceful times. It helped that she had already proved herself, of course, and she knew that these matters were still very serious, but she had not needed to defiantly condemn anyone in a public speech for a long time. It was her kindness that shown through these days more than her strength. Many thought she had herself to thank for that, but she knew better.

           It was not a surprise when her office staff entered the room as the executives were still gathering their things; they came in with clipboards and appropriate smiles, clearing off the table and replacing the coffee, but it was a surprise when one of them seemed to be Heero.

           She blinked in surprise, doing a double take just to be sure, but it was indeed him. Heero walked into her meeting on the heels of one of her office assistants, John Hamrick. John carried a clipboard and wore a suit and tie. Heero came in a brown jacket carrying nothing. In somewhat of a profound daze, Relena leaned back against the windowsill, her slender body curving back, her reports pressing into the material of her blue vest as she wrapped her arms around them. Heero's expression was strange, carrying the sort of intensity she had been used to seeing during the war, but of a different kind. His eyes caught her immediately and he smiled in such a way that she straightened, her body suddenly buzzing.

           "Heero," she said, and realized then that she had momentarily forgotten about the executives. Quickly she turned to them and continued her pleasantries where she left off. They smiled as they left, completely unaware of any lapse in relations. Once they were gone, only a few staff members remained, going about their business with soft chatter, and Heero, now walking toward her.

           "I just stopped in to say hello," he said, looking her straight in the face. He had a beautiful face, she had always thought so, even with all its cares and hard lines. But then, many of those had been smoothed away. Once Heero moved to the Earth, after his stay with that strange man who was either his mentor or some lost relation of his (Relena still wasn't entirely sure), he seemed almost a different person. And yet, not so different. He was now becoming the person she had seen in him all along, the person she had seen glowing strongly beneath the fierce exterior that had protected and preserved him during the war.

           She smiled at him again and said something conversational, though she wasn't quite sure what it was. She kept talking, smiling unconsciously, hugging the reports to her body with one arm now, the other dangling without use. He replied in kind to her words, and suddenly she felt his hand touch hers, a gentle and almost unconscious grazing of the fingers. Uncharacteristically, she jerked back, and then laughed hysterically. His expression was forcibly smoothed. To cover the awkwardness of the moment, she immediately invited him to sit down in one of the chairs at the table, gesturing with the hand he had touched. For a moment he started to without thought, and then seemed to catch himself. 

           He was suddenly very close to her, close enough to where she felt like her space was being imposed upon, though he was only talking to her in a low, rolling voice. What was he saying? She concentrated and realized he was talking about the weather and the walk to City Hall. She nodded, raising her eyebrows every so often and finding her lips twitching into smiles she could not stop yet felt were horribly inappropriate.

           "So you're just stopping through," she repeated. "On your way to where?"

           If she hadn't known better she would have said he floundered. "… I have things to do in the city. I just thought…"

           "No," she said hurriedly. "I'm glad you came by." Her back was practically pressed against the window. She could feel the chill air from the cold outside seeping into her shoulder blades, but she felt warm. Her face must of said something because he stepped hurriedly away, apologizing nonsensically. Then he took her hand, just like that, his fingers closing around hers, and walked her back to the table.

           She sat down with something that felt almost like a drop. Heero merely pulled another chair out with one hand, his eyes straying toward her, no longer smiling, and then suddenly he looked at the door. Her stomach turned and her mind made a strange connection between Heero and a captive wolf seeking escape. He didn't sit down.

           "I should go," he said, and did not look at her. His eyes were fastened to the door, as if something captivating stood there. She looked, but she could see nothing there. Nothing, her mind mused, except a way out. Her thoughts floundered, trying to make connections with his behavior. _He likes me. He likes me. _She half believed it, and was half afraid to.

           "All right," she said. "I haven't seen you in awhile. I wish you had time to talk longer."

           "I know," he said quickly. "I've been thinking about you. I'll call you. Sometime."

           She sat with both arms hugging her reports to her chest tightly, sat and watched as he walked out. The people moving around had ignored them at first, but now they were watching, watching and speculating. Relena had forgotten them until just now.

           When she recalled again where she was, Heero was completely gone, leaving nothing except his last words to even signify that he had been there. It was, by far, his briefest visit, and the strangest.  She had never felt quite like that before.  She rolled what he had said over in her mind. He had been thinking about her. A flame burned in her heart, swelling like golden sunshine, and with it a terrible confusion and fear.

           Lowering her head over her reports, she bit her lip and tried to keep from shivering or giggling or wondering. But she couldn't help it, and gradually became aware that she was doing all three, though she tried to suppress them. Her heart felt light as air, like a balloon lifting high into the sky, and she was certain that if she stood up, she would float.

           When she finally got up and left the room, she wandered down the hall aimlessly, trailing a hand along the wall, her mind spinning like a top. Her head was filled with nonsense images of Heero as she knew him and also as she imagined him. But when she passed the foyer of the main building, she noticed something strange. In a wastebasket on the way in there was a bouquet of fresh flowers, the petals still glistening with sprayed water. In the wastebasket. She stared at them for several seconds, alone in the open chamber, just her and the tossed-away bouquet in the trashcan of a large, empty room with tile floors. She didn't know what to think.

*****

           Heero ran out of City Hall and out into the street. Once his shoes hit the pavement he slowed to brisk walk, exercising his muscles, stretching his legs. His hand reached for the cell phone in his pants pocket and dialed a number he now called when in any kind of distress.

           It was picked up. It hadn't been for awhile, but respecting his guardian's privacy, he did not ask why.

           "Hello? Mandred?"

           The voice that answered was one of the most soothing in the world, a steady, sure voice that spoke with the authority of power wielded gently for generations. Heero was still not entirely sure who or what Mandred exactly was, but he trusted him, and that was enough, being rare in itself. "I'm here. What is it, Heero?"

           Heero's head was awhirl, his thoughts reverberating back to that scene with Relena. His heart beat had still not slowed down. "I have a problem. Where are you?"

           Mandred laughed. "I'm very far away."

           Heero wondered briefly just how far, but not too long. His memories, strangely, of some of his time with Mandred were muddled, like looking through fog. And yet, he had no desire to think on them at all, and he knew vaguely why that was too. Mandred, he remembered, was a strange person, old, though he did not look it, and from a very strange place.

           "What do you need?" Mandred asked him, in all the tones of human normalcy, which Heero took at face value, because Mandred was honest and straight-forward if he was anything.

           "Advice," he muttered. "About Relena."

           Mandred's reply was not urgent, but it was immediate. It almost sounded amused. "I think I see. I'll be at your house in a few minutes. I'll probably beat you there."

           Heero didn't ask how that was to be managed, nor did he ask how Mandred knew he was not at home already. He never asked those sorts of questions. He was just grateful that he did not have to explain anything and would get help without strictly asking for it. His body was shaking a little, not with fear, but with adrenaline, a familiar sensation, but not in this context. 

           "Thanks," Heero said, and hung up.

           He stopped in the middle of the street, staring at his phone, and then arched his neck to look back at where he had come from. He could not see Relena anymore simply by looking at the building, he knew, and wondered if it was foolish to try. What had gone wrong? He had been mostly fine until he drew too close to her, and then what he had intended fell all to pieces, if he even knew what he had intended.

           He hoped Mandred's advice was good.


	3. Mandred makes a suggestion

Desires of the Heart

Chapter 3

By Zapenstap

            Heero fished for his keys in the pocket of his brown jacket and brought them up to his home door, conscious mostly of the sound they made as they clanked together.   His head was bent low as he turned the key in the lock, a few stray brown hairs falling in front of his eyes.  He ignored them once the door was opened, lifting his head with a jerk to sweep them back, and stepped inside on the wood floors of his hallway.

            As he deposited the keys back into his jacket, Heero considered his feelings.  They were difficult to determine, a mere jumble of desires that faded in and out as his thoughts turned.  Maybe that was what had made him run, the uncertainty of his hasty decision.  He was known to act on impulse before.  He had tried to assassinate Relena more than once on impulse, and as new information arose, he had changed his mind, about a lot of things.  Emotions were a lot less concrete than information, and it was difficult to follow them and simply expect the best result. When the Romafeller audience had applauded Relena's plan for peace he had let her live, but deciding whether or not he wanted to be…romantic… with her was an entirely different affair.  All the way to city hall he had thought about her, imagined the conversation they would have, or the conversation he would try to direct, but when he saw her he realized he had less control of what would happen than he thought.  She had looked the same to him, a young girl leading old men who had been long in power, a girl full of the confidence that she could shape the world with her own delicate hands.  For a second, she had looked like an idiot.  He had often thought of her as an idiot, politically irresponsible, way in over her head, expecting too much good out of people simply because she believed in goodness.  The reoccurrence of the thought made him pause, and then he found his thoughts tilting the other way as he remembered that her idealistic ideas had worked, that the belief in such magic had produced world peace, and reminding himself that she was intensely beautiful and that he had come to see her for a reason.  The confusion that resulted sent him stumbling in some haste from the room.

            He recognized the feeling in him as fear.

            The familiarity of his house settled his nerves, and the thought that he might be able to sort out his intentions calmed his buzzing thoughts. What he needed was to relax and think things through, or do something to take his mind off of it if there was nothing to be done by planning.  He wasn't really sure what to expect.

            "I see you've stolen some of my décor," a voice murmured from the dining room.

            Heero lifted his head.  His shoes echoed loudly on the wood floors as he strode silently to the closet to hang up his coat.  The voice did not speak again as Heero fitted the coat on a hanger and hung it over the bar, and Heero lingered longer in the hallway, blinking at nothing, thinking again over the state he had left things in with Relena while he ignored Mandred's salutation.  Having at the encounter in the city no clear purpose of what he wanted, he didn't see the affair with Relena as a failure.  He did tell her he would call her after all, and she had certainly been friendly.  What's more, he sensed that she was interested in what he did not say, and a little perturbed that she might have been able to read him so keenly.  But then, he had heard girls were like that, especially in matters of the heart.  He was more disconcerted that he had not acted when he suspected how she would respond.  Well, he had been scared, but all of that was in the past.  What he had to decide now was what to do next, a task with which he hoped some help would be offered, or at least some perspective.  

            When he was ready, Heero entered the living room, crossing his arms over his gray sweater as he walked with a slow, ambling pace.

            Mandred was in the kitchen, holding a ceramic mug Heero had bought at a local store in his long-fingered, even-toned hands.  He was a tall man, equally lean and strong, with a handsome face, a small nose and dark, piercing eyes.  There was strength in the way he carried himself, from the set of his shoulders to the way he stood firmly with the soles of his shoes flat on the floor.  

            "I just like to keep things simple," Heero replied to the former comment.  For some reason it wasn't surprising to see his legal guardian after all this time, but it did affect him.  Mandred had come into Heero's life after the way as a surprise.  For whatever reason, the man had remembered him from his training with Doctor J and felt concerned for him after the war ended.  He had given Heero a stable environment for the better part of a year and had helped him sort out his past and his identity. Heero was grateful, but when he turned eighteen they went their separate ways. Heero wondered why he had chosen to call Mandred at a time like this.  The bond between them was peculiar.  He wasn't sure what to call it.

            Mandred raised his head and caught him in the eye. "Sometimes," Mandred said as a mysterious smile, and set the mug back on the counter.

            "It's been awhile since I've seen you," Heero said quietly.  "You never told me what happened. The last I saw you, you were headed for a trial.  Were you acquitted?"

            "No," Mandred said.  "But the proceedings went much like I supposed they would.  I have paid my debts."

            "I couldn't get a hold of you," Heero said, relieved and only a little curious as he passed Mandred into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water from the sink.

            "I was ill," Mandred replied, and still he had not moved.  "There was a time period where it would have been impossible for me to contact you, and an adjacent time when I was in no condition to attempt it."

            Heero frowned, the water barely wetting his lips.  He couldn't image Mandred being sick, and he especially couldn't imagine him so sick that he couldn't contact him.  "What was wrong with you?" he asked as nonchalantly as he could.  Swallowing a few mouthfuls of water, he set the glass on the counter.

            "Fatigue mostly," Mandred said.  "My mind and body both suffered from it, but I have been well since I recovered.  There is no need to worry now.  As I said, I have made a full recovery.  Besides, I think I am here for some problem _you are having."_

            "I wasn't worried," Heero muttered, but the words fell into dead space.  "As for my current problem, I don't know why I called you.  I don't really know if you can help me."

            "Neither do I," Mandred replied, "but why don't we sit down or walk somewhere and you can tell me about it?"

            Heero cast Mandred a sidelong, speculative glance as he led the way to the back porch, a spot chosen because he thought the cold air would clear his head, and shivering would give him something to do other than think about Relena.  Mandred followed patiently, and did not seem to feel the cold at all.  

            Heero surveyed the little bit of backyard he had from the wood rail, noticing the decaying remains and the bare spots of dirt and gravel in his lawn.  He had never been much one for gardening, but he supposed he might need to learn if he expected anyone to respect his yard.  

            He was evading.

            Heero scrubbed a hand through his hair and turned around, leaning back against the rail.  Mandred was sitting on the bench against the wall, his hands folded across his knees, waiting with what looked like imperishable patience.  Watching his face, Heero saw knowingness there, not the sort he would expect from a mind reader, just a calm assurance tempered by all that patience. Of course, anyone as old as Mandred ought to have a dragon's patience, simply to be able to endure so many days passing unchanged.  How old was Mandred?  Heero couldn't remember.  He had a vague thought that the man was some kind of magician, and perhaps it was a magic trick that kept him from being able to think through his memories clearly, but Heero didn't think about that.  Mandred was old and wise.  That was what he remembered.

            "It's about Relena," Heero said in the silence, and swallowed after it was out of his mouth.  His chest felt looser, though, and he relaxed his body so that his arms hung limply at the elbow on the rail behind him.   For some reason, it didn't bother him to let some of his stiffness go in Mandred's presence.

            Mandred smiled a small, secret smile, and Heero flushed a little in response.  "You always did like her," his mentor murmured.

            Heero opened his mouth to protest, but Mandred forestalled him with a gesture. 

            "You can't deny that you fuss over her."

            "No," Heero said, straightening unconsciously like a soldier under the observation of a commanding officer.  "I protected her a great deal, at great disk." There was indignation in his voice, a sense of a man wanting to prove himself.  "She was a very important person and what she was doing meant a lot to me, to the whole world."

            "Even after that," Mandred said with a wave of his hand, "after everything, when she was on television.  I know you recorded her speeches when I made you go to school."  When Heero opened his mouth again, but Mandred only laughed light-heartedly.  "I'm not implying anything.  She's a sweet girl.  Spirited.  I am merely saying that this declaration of yours does not surprise me. I might also add that I am not the only one who has noticed."

            "I wasn't trying to keep anything secret," Heero glowered, and was surprised by what sounded like sullenness in his voice.  He found himself looking away.  The wind blew his hair and he shivered a little, realizing how cold it was outside without a coat, though Mandred did not seem affected by it.  "I know Duo thinks I have a thing for her."

            "What do you think?"

            "I don't know," Heero said honestly with a shrug of his shoulders.  "Some people seem to think I've been in love with her for years.  I don't know if I agree with that."  He looked down, feeling again those mix of emotions rolling around inside his head.  His shoes were scuffed on the toes.  The idea that Relena had loved him in secret for any length of time frightened him.  "I care about her," he admitted, "but I wouldn't call it love."  He turned his back to Mandred. "I don't really know what love is.  I don't even know if that's what I want."

            "That's a big step," Mandred said quietly, and Heero wasn't sure if he was referring to being in love or Heero's confession that he at least cared.  Heero supposed that both were pretty big steps, but rather than feel proud he felt mostly confused and anxious.  He hated feeling like that.  

            He only knew Mandred had stood when he felt the man's hand on his shoulder.  The physical contact caused him to sink lower against the railing.  For a moment he was silent, breathing in the scent of frozen dirt and sharp wind.  Then he began to shiver.

            "You're cold," Mandred said suddenly.  "Let's go back inside.  I would like some tea."

            Mandred sat at the table while Heero boiled teabags in water over the stove.  Mandred was reading the paper, or perhaps merely glancing at it by how quickly he turned the pages.  When Heero poured the tea into two steaming mugs, Mandred lifted his head again with a smile.  Heero sat across from him, adding sugar to his tea while Mandred sipped on his plain.  

            "Things seem to be going well here," Mandred said conversationally.  "Few uprisings, I take it."

            "Not any in a long time," Heero agreed.  "There's been an increase in population and a bit of a strain on resources with so many people moving to the Earth, but sickness is dying down.  There was even an outbreak of a known deadly virus in Africa a few weeks ago that disappeared almost as soon as it was publicized.  People just mysteriously started getting better.  Scientists think the air is improving due to the lack of mobile suits and the movement to non-pollutant means of travel, but I don't know.  I think attitudes are improving."

            "Indeed," Mandred commented.  "Sometimes a good attitude can vanquish a problem that seems to have no solution, and often it improves problems with a more concrete nature.  Now, what is it you plan to do about Relena?  What have you already done?"

            "I visited her today," Heero replied promptly.  "I even bought her flowers."

            "I see," Mandred said.  "So you got there and had an awkward conversation and then left?"

            "Yeah," Heero said. 

            "Did you give her the flowers?"

            "No. I was afraid that flowers might send too strong of a message.  I don't really know what I expect to come out of this. Nothing, maybe."

            "But you still want to give it a try?" Mandred inquired.

            "I think so. I don't know.  If I give it a try and it turns out that it's not what I expected…what am I going to do?"

            Mandred shook his head.  "There's no way to tell unless you try, but if you enter a relationship expecting it to fail, you will have a lot more difficulty and doubt getting it to succeed.  That goes for anything."

            Heero was quiet.  

            "Perhaps the reason you have waited for so long was because you are not one to do anything expecting it to fail.  Are you feeling that maybe there is a likely chance of success at this?"

            "I really don't know."

            Mandred seemed to read him without need for more information.  "I see."

            "I told her I would call her," Heero said.  He fought with himself, running over in his mind the things he had just said, and also what Mandred had said, and Duo as well.  He purposefully recalled Relena's face to his mind, the contours of her body, the expressions that were familiar to him, and tried to engage in a scenario where he asked her out and she accepted.

            "Do you want her to be your girlfriend or do you just want to date her?" Mandred asked.

            Heero's lowered his eyes.  "I think it would make the most sense just to try a date and see what happens."

            "Then do that," Mandred said with a finality in his voice that suddenly made the picture very clear.  "Just call her.  Try it now, before you start thinking too much."

            Heero's eyes widened at the suddenness of the suggestion, but he immediately saw the sense of it.  Taking another swallow of tea and half wishing it was alcohol, he stood up.  Mandred watched him for a moment and then sat back with the paper, sipping his tea as if he forgot Heero existed.  Muttering under his breath that he was being half dared (so he could not refuse) Heero walked into the other room and picked up the phone.


	4. When a Boy Calls a Girl

Desires of the Heart

Chapter 4

By zapenstap

            The telephone was like a foreign object in his hand.  Heero handled it with care, noting the details of its shape and structure, the feel of the smooth plastic against the palm of his hand.  He thought of Relena, of what it would feel like to hold her, to take her out and get close to her.  His palms were strangely sweaty.  He swallowed and wondered where such thoughts had come from. 

            They frightened him.

            Skirting away from his fear, an emotion he avoided if he could, he found himself in a blank void, a place that immediately filled with memories of a time when he had been completely in control, lacking nerves, lacking fears, lacking desires.  He began to unconsciously sink into the cold mental state he assumed when on the battlefield.  When he had fought, nothing fazed him.  Explosions, wounds, destruction, death and even hopelessness were all distractions to be ignored out in the dust and the heat of battle.  When the dust settled and the adrenaline thinned, the hollow emptiness that was the rest of his life rushed in.  Out in the fight it was all skinned knees, burning heart, aching hands and a hazy mind held together by rigid control.  Out of the battles it was all confusion and fumbling.  He choked, banishing the thoughts, taking deep breaths until the memories receded and the task at hand came once more to view.  Now, the thought of holding Relena was like cool water poured over his head.  The thought that he wanted to be with a girl was a comfort and a welcome distraction.  The heat and animal instinct that accompanied the thought was far more pleasant than the scorching fire of his memories of his life in battle.  Out there, a racing heart was his only conscious link to his body; the sound of it pounding in his ears when he was about to lose consciousness reminded him of its primary use, to send blood to his veins so that he could do what was necessary.  It took will power.  At his lowest points he had always had that.  Will power.  It could do a lot for a man.

            Numbly, he forced his past back into the black box it had sprung form and dialed Relena's number.  He held the phone precariously to his ear.  His hand had a death grip on the edge of the table.

            It rang once, twice… 

            He hung up.  

            "Did you call her yet?"  Mandred's voice came from the living room.  His old mentor sounded so calm.

            Heero took a deep breath and felt himself calming down.  "No," he said, pleased that at least he had full command of his voice.  "I was thinking."

            "Are you going to call her?" 

            "Yes," he answered automatically, irritated more at himself than Mandred, and picked up the phone again.  He was surprised when he realized that he was shaking a little.  Nervous.  Yes, he had felt that before.  It was easy to ignore it.  Other people wouldn't notice; not if he got the job done.  People were always primarily interested in results.  Nerves were better than emptiness.  Even fear was better than that.  

            And he was certainly scared as his fingers punched in Relena's office number.  It was getting late.  Would she even still be there? The phone rang once, twice, still with no pick up.   Maybe she had gone home already.  He was idly wondering if he preferred this to the battles after all when he suddenly recalled that he had her home phone number too.  He didn't remember why or how he had it, but he remembered that he had written it down somewhere at some time.  No excuses then.  Three times, four.  His breath felt choked in his body.  He didn't even hear the fifth ring because the buzzing thoughts in his head were so loud they overwhelmed all other senses.  He could feel his heart pumping, thudding loudly in his ears.  He imagined the organ at work, the blood squeezing through his arteries.  The sound carried that much detail it was so loud, but what good was it?  This was not a strenuous activity.  Six rings.  No one expected you to hang on after the seventh.  She probably wasn't there.  He could call back at another…

            "Hello?"

            Her voice was like having cold water dunked over his head.   "Relena?" His voice was so quiet.  He barely understood himself.

            "Heero?"

            She sounded surprised.  He might have taken that as a tactical advantage if he could think as well as he usually did.  Mentally, he tried to calm himself, choosing his words carefully.  He wished he knew what to say.  It felt like the words came out in a tangle.  "Relena, I'm calling because of this afternoon…"   He trailed off until he found himself in a comfortable silence, comfortable for him anyway.  His voice and the words coming out of his mouth didn't sound like him, at all, but what was he supposed to say?  He was objectively conscious of the awkward gap he had left in the conversation.  Through the phone, he could almost physically feel her confusion.  The silence stretched.  He knew he ought to say something, but his mouth remained closed.  He just kept breathing.  If he didn't think too strongly about it, he could believe that getting this far was a bit of a victory.

            Somebody should still say something.

            "It's all right, Heero," Relena said.  She must have cued in that he wasn't going to say more.  "It was good to see you."  It sounded to him like a confused, formulaic response pulled out her handbag of diplomatic replies, but at least she said something.

            Heero fumbled for a response, one with purpose.  He remembered Mandred's advice, about asking for a meeting alone with her that had nothing to do with business, hoping she could figure it out.  Several propositions took shape in his mind…

            _I have been wanting to talk with you privately, Relena.  Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?_

_            I'm sorry for the way I behaved.  Would like me to take you out to dinner to make it up to you?_

_            Relena, I was thinking about you the other day and it had come to my attention that I don't see a great deal of you lately.  Would you like to have dinner to catch up?_

_            Relena, I know this is a bit abrupt, but if you're not doing anything tomorrow night, would you like to meet me for dinner so we can talk for awhile?_

Anything of the sort seemed like an adequate invitation.  Several times he parted his lips to suggest one of them, but each time he found himself lingering in the safety of silence.  It was like swimming in a pool with a shallow end and a deep end, hovering over the point where your feet no longer touched the bottom.  He was pretty sure that he could swim, but he had never tested the waters.  He was doing all right on the shallow end, so why risk what he had?  The water felt the same out there as it did over here, didn't it?  Relena wasn't going to become a different person if he took her out, and he already knew as much as he really needed to know about her, didn't he?  What good, what profit was there in trying for a closer relationship anyway?  Well, there were some things about their relationship, possibly, that might change if he got closer to her…

            "Heero, are you still there?" Relena's soft voice came through to his ears.

            "Yes," he said automatically.  "I was thinking."  _Do you want to have dinner with me?  It was so easy to say.  _

            "What were you thinking about?" she asked.

            _I was thinking about you, came a fervent thought.  She was so beautiful, long legs and slim hips and sweet, sparkling eyes._ Do you…_ He still couldn't seem to find his voice.  Nervously, he began toying with the things on the table, and then took to pacing around the room. Silence weighed heavily on his ears._

            "Heero?" she said again, still waiting for a reply.  "Why are you calling me?" She was quiet for a moment.  "I'm sorry I didn't get to talk to you more today," she murmured suddenly.  "Maybe we should have dinner some time to catch up."

            She had said it for him.  He responded automatically, though surprisingly slow and calm. "I think that would be a good idea.  I'd like to talk to you too."

            She paused again, weighing his statement.  He wasn't annoyed that she might weigh it correctly.  If anything, all he considered was that, if she did weigh it correctly, it might never be necessary for him to ever tell her anything.  If she could guess his feelings, like it seemed girls could, he needed never explain them.  He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

            "Where do you want to meet?" she asked.  "I am free tomorrow night."

            "Tomorrow night," he agreed.  He felt easier.  Smiling, he suggested a place, a little seaside restaurant he had heard was highly recommended.  He asked her when she would want him to pick her up.  She said seven.

            At length he hung up the phone and looked in the mirror hanging on the side wall.  He looked all right to himself, though perhaps his hair could be combed.  He had nicer shirts than this too…  She had agreed to go to dinner with him.  He hoped she realized that it was a date, though he still wasn't sure how dates were meant to work.  What were they going to talk about?  He already knew everything important about her.  He hardly considered it after a moment.  Instead he just thought of her, letting his mind run free over the thoughts he had suppressed before.  Could it really be possible that she and he could…?  She had agreed to a date and he was taking her out to dinner.  Maybe something would happen.

            When he walked out of the room, he was confronted by Mandred sitting on the couch, one of Heero's philosophy books in his hand. He lowered the book when Heero came into view and shook his head expressively.  "Unbelievable," he murmured with a small smile, and refused to explain what he meant by it.


	5. First Date

Desires of the Heart

Chapter Five

By zapenstap

            It had been a mildly cool winter day that darkened into evening before afternoon was over. Outside, the chill was almost to the point of frosting car windows and making the roads slick, but not quite. It was warm for winter, but still cool.

            Relena sat on the couch before a fire in her apartment with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The room was lit only by the fire roaring in the hearth, the shaded lamp on the glass table by the far window and a few scented candles burning silently on the mantle. Her bare feet were propped up on the brick in front of the fireplace, warming in the heat of the blaze as the burnt rose-colored lacquer hardened on her toenails. 

            She was cold because she was dressed only in a pair of gray sweat shorts and a white winter tank top. It was what she slept in these days, alone in her bed in a silent, empty house where no one could possibly remark on the informality of her dress. When she got home from work, she often stripped and stepped into the shower first thing, after which she threw on these casual sort of bedclothes and sometimes wrapped up in a robe. There was nothing to do after work on most days, and she spent her time in formulaic fashion. After her shower she would eat a hot dinner by herself, finish any work she had left over from the day, indulge in a bit of reading, watch the evening news for the media's interpretation of events and then fall into bed and as early as possible. Oftentimes, she let her hair—thin and long as it was—disintegrate into a stringy and unmanageable tangle for the remainder of the day before letting her head sink into her pillow. At work she was poised and prim enough, but at home she was alone.

            But tonight was different.

            Relena gazed at the hot dancing flames in the fire, aware of the clock ticking on the wall behind her, reading just past six. Today she had gone home from work and taken a shower same as always, but tonight her hair was blow-dried, combed and styled. It was not stringy at all, but flowed together in a thin, but beautiful wave of honey-golden brown with blonde highlights. She had cleaned and exfoliated her face before applying make-up, including a lot of stuff that she didn't usually wear, and every inch of her skin glowed with expensive, scented lotion. To her own hands, her arms and legs and stomach felt as soft and smooth as the wing of a dove, and something in her stomach wouldn't stop quaking with the thought that maybe somebody else might think so too. Maybe not by the end of the night—that would be a little fast for her—but maybe someday.

            She closed her eyes against the heat of the fire, and felt her eyelids cooking in the warm glow. The air around her seemed to hum with a soft, beautiful expectation, a sweet sort of tenderness that beat in time to the echo in her heart. 

            She tried to keep her thoughts from exploring too much. She didn't want to persuade herself one way or the other. Thoughts that this dinner with Heero was only a silly meeting or a hopelessly awkward and fruitless date warred with thoughts that this was the beginning of the first romance of her life, maybe the beginning of something that would last forever. 

            A few years ago love had never been a serious consideration for her. She had always assumed that she would get married someday and the standards she had for herself warranted a strong love commitment in that, but she had never concerned herself over it. She assumed that it would just happen and she had never done a single thing to advance the realization of that assumption. Many guys had been interested her during school as she was the wealthiest girl in the district, elegant and well-mannered, but none of those boys had meant anything to her.  She had never been kissed or cuddled or held or wooed and she had been starting to feel very strange about it. Of course she reminded herself that the right person just hadn't come along, and in the stage of her life where the subject was often entertained lightly for the experience of it she had been far too busy with matters that affected the entire world to bother. Now that all of that was said and done there was a feeling of emptiness in her, a quiet longing for…well it was difficult to imagine it, having never felt it before.

            She had never allowed herself be in love with Heero, of course, not really. It was a little different now, but when she first met him it never crossed her mind to let herself just fall in love with him, to have a crush like any idiot girl.  He _had been immediately alluring, though, as no one had ever been.  At the time, he was a mystery, a soldier on the beach who was strange, elusive and dangerous. And then, over time, she became concerned about him, about his part in the war, about the horrible way he had been treated all his life about matters that really were not his fault and not his concern save by choice. It was partly that choice that inspired her to make those matters her concern too, to motivate her to do all that she had done. After all, if a fifteen year old boy without a hope in the world and no one to care whether her breathed or died could do so much, what might be expected of someone like her, with her resources, connections, education and grit? Yes, Heero had been her motivation, the model that pushed her into action. It was for him that she initially had done anything for everybody. It was for him that she had bled her soul and sold her country and herself to Romafeller for true peace. But had she fallen in love with him? Not exactly. _

            She cared about him. She liked him. He had always loomed largely in her thoughts. But during the war it wasn't that personal, not in a romantic way.  She hadn't allowed it to be, to let herself drown in such romantic whimsies. She hadn't ever felt that he cared a smidgen for her, after all, not really. She knew that he couldn't kill her, but she suspected it was because something in his heart was changing for humanity in general, maybe by meeting her, but it wasn't her particularly, just someone caring. It wasn't like he was in any way attracted to her. Not like that. 

            But then, after the war, when everything was over, she had found other things about him to think about. It was less motivation and more…idle, as if she had nothing better or more important to think about. Before Mandred came she had been scared for him and maybe that was part of it, because she saw that even with the newfound peace he was hurting and lonely and depressed, but all of that had changed. He was still Heero in the essential ways. He was still smart and quietly observant and he didn't like to be around a lot of people, but he seemed generally happier, at ease with himself and his place in the world, at ease to let go of soldier in him and just live. She admired that change in him, coming so quickly, as much as she admired him in general, and her thoughts lingered on him for long periods sometimes, but was that love? She was a little breathless yesterday when he came in out of nowhere to see her, and the way he had touched her hand had sparked desires she had kept locked up tight all her life, but it was only in the way of speculation, though she wouldn't deny that she liked him even if it wasn't love.

            But what if it could be?

            She sat before the fire with her hair done and her toenails painted, staring into the flames, wondering what he was thinking and doing at this moment. In two hours they would have dinner, just the two of them, and if she wasn't mistaken, he meant for it to be a date. He had made her ask, of course, she remembered with a frown, but she had been pretty dead certain that that was why he had called. Besides, his awkwardness was kind of adorable.

            She smiled to herself, hands curling around her feet and the blanket slipping off her shoulders. He had been both cute and infuriating on the phone. She could see him through the receiver during the long, awkward silences, boring holes through the walls with those eyes of his, his slender frame probably straight and tense as a tree. His jaw must have clamped shut on him to account for all those pauses when he seemed to be waiting for her to tell him what he wanted. Men were supposed to take initiative, she had been told, but Heero was still a boy. He didn't know what he was doing by calling a girl and asking for a date. He might as well be fourteen for all the likely experience that he had. Of course, she didn't have any experience either, but that only made it more awkward and confusing, and she thought that girls tended to imagine such scenarios more often. At least, she had imagined how it would be if he would call her like that before; she just hadn't believed he actually would.

            When her toenails were dry, Relena stood up with the blanket around her shoulders and went upstairs to her room to dress. She dressed last so that her clothes wouldn't get wrinkled from sitting around waiting and so that she would still feel new and confident in them. Heero hadn't mentioned what she would wear, but she doubted he would be trying to impress her with anything ridiculously fancy, so she opted for something between work and weekends. The result was a knee-length black skirt fitted to her body and a sleeveless white top. Her arms would get cold without a coat, but she had a white one that would do quite well and black sandal shoes to match her skirt. For jewelry she wore small diamond studs with silver backs and a tiny, silver heart pendant with a small diamond in the center. Both were gifts from her mother—her adopted mother, anyway—on her last birthday. Her hair she wore down, to offset the heeled shoes in a gesture of informality, and also because she thought she looked better with her hair down. She refused to let herself think about how wearing her hair down might attract a boy's desire to run his fingers through it, even if that's what she was doing. Those kind of thoughts spawned butterflies in her stomach.

            At last she was ready and it was only six thirty. The house was quiet, very quiet, and she unconsciously started at every sound that might be taking place outside her door, thinking that it could be a car rolling up to the curb or footsteps on the stairs. To occupy herself, she sat carefully on the couch and tried to read, but the words kept blurring before her eyes. This was her first date with Heero, something she really did not think would ever happen, and now that it was happening, she couldn't stop thinking about it, and thinking about it made her panic.

            She was full-fledged panicking, and berating herself for it, when a quiet knock came at the door. Relena half dropped and half threw her book on the couch, bounding to her feet in a second. All at once she remembered a dozen things she hadn't done that she had meant to. All the lights were on and her purse was by the counter in the kitchen. She had forgotten to lock her doors in advance and she had meant to grab some mints to put in her purse. Too late now. 

            Dashing to the door, Relena opened it hastily, too hasty to prepare herself for the sight of him, or think about what to say.

            "Heero," she stammered, pulling the door open wider. She beat herself mentally for sounding surprised like that when she knew it would be him. She ought to have said something warm and self-assured, something ladylike. Too late now. "Come in, please," she added, and stepped back to let him into her home.

            The first thing she noticed was that she had dressed about right since he had actually bothered to dress up at all. He looked well groomed to her, beautiful in his walled-off, mysterious way, hands in the pockets of nice, gray dress slacks with a matching jacket. His hair was still unruly, but it wasn't in a disheveled way. He just wasn't somebody to comb or slick his hair back, which was fine with her because she thought that would look awfully strange on him. He didn't smile, though, and she couldn't tell if it was because he wasn't happy or because he was nervous or concentrating on something. Either way, she did her best to ignore it and managed to smile at him.

            After that, the foretold awkwardness set in.  Simultaneously, they both seemed to realize that this was a date and took note that the other person knew it too.

            Heero lowered his head and cleared his throat.  "I have reservations…" he began.

            "Of course," she said, and new her eyes must be a trifle wide.  "Just let me get my purse."

            They talked a little in the car, but most of the time she spent obsessing over her makeup, hoping the blush wasn't too strong or the lip gloss too thick. If it wasn't her makeup, it was her hair that bothered her, and it was an effort not to pull down the visor and look in the mirror on the passenger's side.  Instead, she smiled and asked him all the usual questions, and realized gradually that they were boring each other silly.

            She didn't want this to be a disaster.  She knew they could both fascinate each other if they could only get to a level of comfort, but that seemed near impossible.  Heero was nervous.  She could tell even though he appeared to be rock steady.  To her, he just seemed to be doing everything a little too carefully and too perfectly.  Looking at him in the darkness of the car, she noted the way his throat flashed when he breathed, and how quickly he was breathing.  With that observation she was overcome by a sudden desire to take the hand he was not driving with in her own, but the minute the thought became clear she froze up and lost all focus of conversation.  They drove the rest of the way to the restaurant in silence.

            The lights inside were welcome and brought the smile back to her face.  For once, nobody appeared to be staring at her.  It was such a nice feeling not to be stared at.  Heero talked in low tones to the host and then glanced at her over his shoulder when it became apparent that it was time to be led to their table.  Relena smiled and walked up to his side, though she did not take his arm or stand too close.  When the waiter gestured for them to follow, Heero waved her to walk in front of him politely.  

            Dinner was wonderful, other than trying not to pick anything too expensive on the menu or worrying whether she had anything stuck in her teeth.  Heero was a quiet date.  But then, he was a quiet person.  When they were ordering, he didn't talk; he merely read his menu in silence while she watched and contemplated his face.  He really did have a very beautiful face.  When he finally did look at her, his eyes held her steadily in their gaze for several moments before he began to speak.  He neither blushed nor tripped over his words, but simply began talking with her.  

            "I was up in L1 a few weeks back," he said in those smooth tones of him, not smiling, but not unhappy.  "It was strange seeing the construction that they're doing now.  All the armaments being torn down to make room for more resources.  Did you hear the plans that professor from Kiev is proposing for MIII?" 

            She hadn't even known someone else had taken interest in that.  A spark lit up in her breast at such a strange and gratifying connection.  Now that the war was over, researchers in a swarm of universities were proposing all sorts of new ideas.  When she replied with equal knowledge, he also seemed surprised.  Even so, throughout the entire conversation she noticed that he only blinked his eyes twice.  It gave him a bit of a terrifying appearance, even though she was not afraid.

            When dinner came, they broke off the conversation a little to eat and then resumed it again with a different topic.  Heero asked her what she had been doing all this time, which sparked an easy flow of conversation that seemed to shift back and forth.  Heero was fairly open with his comings and goings since he no longer had anything to hide, but even then she had the distinct impression that he was telling her things he wouldn't have said to anyone else.  It brought a smile and quiet glow to her face, and gradually she became aware of how much she wanted this to work.  She wasn't willing to commit to loving him yet—certainly not—but she felt for the first time in her life the glimmerings of a special care for a particular person. True, for him there had always been something there, but not like this.   This was romantic and strange and wonderful all at the same time, and even if it was hesitant, she found that she couldn't stop smiling.

            By the time they finished eating, Relena gradually lost sense of propriety and slipped into a comfort zone she rarely had even when alone at home.  Her voice rose when she grew excited about a topic and she laughed whenever she found something funny.  She was only vaguely aware that her posture had lost some of its perfect rigidly and she didn't notice the way Heero had gotten very quiet, leaning with his elbows on the table and staring at her with eyes that almost seemed to shimmer.  A small, barely detectible smile made his face look more genteel and angelic than she could ever remember and he watched her with that expression for some time before she became aware of it.  When she did notice, she grew quiet too, her good mood sinking into her heart and her face relaxing.  A slightly embarrassed blush bloomed in her cheeks.  

            "Are you finished?" he asked quietly.

            "Yes," she said.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to dominate the conversation."

            "I meant with dinner," he said in that same quiet voice.

            She blushed again.  "Yes," she said, and couldn't help wondering what he was thinking.

            Heero sat up straighter and called to the waiter to bring the check.  His expression was the way she remembered it again, composed and mysterious, but it also seemed more personal to her, and she couldn't tear her eyes away from the arch of his neck or the smooth lines of his nose and chin and cheeks.  

            They left the restaurant when the waiter returned with Heero's check, and this time Relena did stand a little closer to him, though she wasn't sure she ought to.  When they crossed the parking lot and came close to the car, she felt Heero put his hand softly on the small of her back.  Her heart began thumping faster for some reason, but all she did was open the door and sit down on the carpeted seats.  She sat shivering in the cold as Heero walked around the back of the car and got in beside her.  She didn't speak while they waited for the engine to warm up.  She didn't speak when they were on the road and heading back to her house. She just couldn't think of a damned thing to say.

            When he was in her neighborhood she cleared her throat, feeling that if she didn't say something now she wouldn't say anything at all.  "Thank you for dinner, Heero," she said politely.  "I had a wonderful time."  Did that sound too polite, as if she really hadn't enjoyed herself?

            Heero smiled a sweet, closed-lip smile.  "Thanks for coming with me," he said.

            As he pulled up to the curb of her house, Relena felt her heart flutter.  She had to ask.  To be sure, she had to ask.  "Heero," she said as he put the car in park and the lights turned off.  "Was this a date?"

            He stopped moving for a second, his hands frozen on the emergency brake and the wheel.  "Yeah," he said, and turned his eyes to her.

            For a second, she wondered if he was going to kiss her, and a shock like electricity went through her system.  His face looked so kissable at that moment, but he didn't make any move of that sort.  Maybe she only wanted him to.

            "Is that okay?" he asked.  He actually sounded unsure, and again she felt like taking his hand in hers.   When she didn't respond, he looked like he was about to say more, something unnecessary like an apology.

            "Yes," she said, and flushed at how empathetic it sounded like that, a lone word blurted out in the dark interior of a car. "I was hoping that was what you meant to say when you came to see me the other day," she added.  

            He looked satisfied, and relieved, relaxing a little in the car seat.  

            Abruptly she realized nothing more was going to happen tonight.  "I guess it's late," she said, though it wasn't much past ten.

            "Yeah," he said.  "You have to get up early."

            Smiling at him, she opened the car door and let herself out.  She didn't expect him to walk her to her door now, not Heero, but she did sort of wish he would.  "Heero," she said, leaning back toward the door.  "Was this the last date?"

            That same look that she had seen in the restaurant came across his face again, that sweet, contemplative expression that seemed to be considering her in the most appealing light.  "No," he said, and she believed him.  "I had a good time too.  I'll call you tomorrow."

            She would have waited on the porch while he drove away, but she also knew he wouldn't drive away as long as she stood on the porch, so with another smile and one last thank you, she walked back to her door and let herself in with her keys.  When she turned on the hallway light and locked the door, she heard the sound of tires moving and looked out the window in time to see him drive away.


	6. Moments

Desires of the Heart

Chapter 6

By zapenstap

            Fire. Heat. The sharp stench of metal and electricity…the awareness of blood, blood scorched and obscured by flame. 

            _Fighting.__ It's all I know how to do._    

            Heero eyes snapped open and closed in the darkness, desiring sleep and afraid of dreams. Moments like this came upon him sometimes still, moments of bleak gloom where all he could recall was the hot sticky heat of battles and the cold, crisp intellect with which he strove to fight them. But emotions in war were tangled things. He could not always keep the heat of the fires blasting around his mobile suit from igniting his heart, and he knew that when he used his anger or his fear he killed better, mastered the situation better, became that fighting animal that he half revered and was half afraid. 

            At length he realized his eyes were open and he was staring at the ceiling, his hair mussed and damp upon his pillow, sweat cooling on his body in the pitch darkness of his room. A little moonlight bathed the carpet in a shimmer silver glow from the window, but it was hardly enough to see by.

            Heero sat up and hung his naked chest and arms over his knees, breathing deeply. He felt so much older than he had in those days and more than because he had finished growing. He also felt more grounded, steady, more aware of himself and the world around him. Even so, he was aware that he was not a pacifistic person. There was a rollicking turbulence in his heart that beat in time with battles, an adrenaline that hungered for movement and pain and the highest degree of emotion. He had a fighting spirit, an athlete's motivational force, all tucked carefully away in a calm and calculating package, a young man who could observe and live calmly unnoticed one moment and explode with pinpoint accuracy and the deadly power of a thunderstorm the next. It came out in his dreams, and in his memories. 

             He tried to banish both, to smother the past.

            Awake in the darkness, he remembered where he was, and remembered too what had happened tonight. A new desire flamed in his heart, an instinct of which he always been aware, but a desire he had muted and ignored during the war. What surprised him was that the emotions were similar, the desire and confusion and urgency the same. It came to him in sensations, a restless, aching need for the scent of a woman and the touch of creamy soft skin. He imagined a girl, unclothed, relaxing into his arms and lying down with him, then swallowed, closing his eyes to more poignantly clear desires. They were very vivid thoughts these days, not the unclear sometimes passing and sometimes obsessive thoughts they had been in adolescence, but rich, detailed and focused. The thought of how the skin of a girl must feel against his, her legs intertwined with his, her breasts available to his hands, was a throat-drying curiosity that was both intense and completely unfathomable. 

            He thought of Relena. He wasn't sure if he should feel ashamed of that. She was a girl, and for the first time the sexual desires he couldn't fully expel seemed within reach of being satisfied. Maybe. He didn't know how he felt about her, nor how she felt about him. It was just that, at dinner, he couldn't stop staring at her, strangely moved by the melodic sound of her voice, feeling so comfortable in her presence. The things she said, her pretty face and painted lips, the shining hair, the way she had of walking and the amazing, terrifying things she did with her eyes without seeming to realize it, captivated him. It was new, new to see her that way, and yet old too, like remembering a forgotten dream. Being with Relena was like living in a garden of white gazebos, French doors, orchards, and flowerbeds overflowing with violets and dahlias, a garden of color and sound were the west wind blew in a golden hope of sweet promised riches yet unfathomed. He had always thought of her that way, a sort of unbelievable thing, tragically perfect, hopelessly romantic and fatally idealistic. And then he ate dinner with her, and found that it was all real somehow, different, but real. Thinking of her he was lost in a dream of half-conceived ideas and hopes. 

            Today he would see her again. Maybe this time he would touch her. That's what he wanted to do. He wanted to get close… to Relena…to a girl; he had trouble separating the two. Relena was an amazing person, alike and yet not like him. He imagined her being the naked girl in his arms and let out a sigh in the darkness. His head was starting to hurt a little. He had been taught to fight, and that was an instinct. This was an instinct too, but of a different sort. He was even less sure of his feelings now than he had ever been in a battle.     

            Heero lay back again on the pillows, sorting through the memories he had of Relena idly, trying to decide the best way to proceed. Eventually his thoughts became foggy, steeping from reality to half remembered thoughts he knew he invented himself. They turned into very strange dreams which, as they became more satisfying also became more frustrating.

            When Heero awoke the next morning his aesthetic feelings had melted back into the recesses of his brain. He found instead that his back hurt, his hair needed to be washed and he felt half drunk. Shaking his head, he rolled awkwardly out of bed and began getting ready for the day. Even so, his thoughts still swam with images. He didn't think consciously on them, they just were, like thoughts of anything, but constant and plaguing. Near the end of the day he allowed himself to call her, dialing the numbers resolutely, expecting to hear the voice that matched the image in his mind.

            "Hello?" she answered. For a moment he stopped thinking, gathering himself, and then he surprised himself when he spoke smoothly, feeling as tranquil as the tropics, his voice a slow, deep and steady rhythm that conveyed all his exact thoughts exactly as he meant to convey them.   

            "I would love to see you tonight, Heero," Relena whispered when he asked. Heero was conscious of a tightness in his lungs, a sort of breathy expectation that wound up his insides, but it didn't interfere with his thoughts or speech this time.

            "Would you like to see where I live?" he asked before he thought about it. The silence on the other end of the line made him want to bite his tongue. He hadn't considered the connotations of such a statement. He thought he might have shocked her. "I mean that as it sounds," he said, and felt his face getting hot at the mere thought of what she might have imagined in that second before he corrected himself. "I'd like to show you where I live. We could make dinner."    

            He couldn't read her tone, but she responded in the affirmative. He offered to pick her up and drive her over. She said she wouldn't mind driving herself. He gave her directions and then spent ten minutes saying goodbye. He had never had a phone conversation that long before.

            The house seemed very lonely and quiet as Heero went about tidying it up. He wasn't a messy person and had relatively few possessions, but the cushions on the couch were straightened, the dishes in the sink washed and put away and the bed made with the utmost attention to detail. He checked his mirrors for excessive dust and then called Ted in from the backyard to help settle his nerves while he waited for Relena.

            The dog was intelligent and obedient to a fault. It had the uncanny ability to know exactly what its master was feeling and made Heero feel almost pathetic when it lay down at his feet and rested its back against his ankles. Heero leaned forward on the couch, his elbows resting over his knees as he stared at Ted's glossy black coat blankly. They sat together in silence, though Ted occasionally turned his head around to look Heero in the face with bright, soulful eyes. Heero scratched him behind the ears when he did that; neither of them could get very settled. Ted knew Heero was waiting for something, and when it came to it, Ted caught sounds at the front door only a split second faster than Heero himself did. They both scrambled to their feet at the same time, Ted letting out a happy bark like he sometimes did when Heero had company, racing to the door in a black streak of muscle and glossy fur. When Heero was slower to respond, that bark turned into a whine of urgency.

            "Ted, get down," Heero rebuked as the dog puts its paws up by the door handle and let out another bark. At the sound of his voice, Ted dropped obediently to his haunches, mouth open and tongue hanging out in a happy pant. Heero patted his head unconsciously, scratching behind the ears briefly before he opened the door to let Relena in.

            She was wearing jeans and a yellow T-shirt, fitted to her body with high sleeves so that he couldn't help noticing that she had breasts. Her breasts weren't large, but he was still curious. Breasts were all different and they were all interesting. He couldn't explain why exactly.  He wanted to touch them, and as the thought materialized, he looked away.

            "Hey," he said, averting his eyes and stepping back as she walked into his entry hall. She had her purse in front of her, held lightly in both hands. Her hair was down around her shoulders, her bangs swept up and styled sparsely over her forehead. She smiled at him, creamy cheeks rounding further in an angelic face. She looked normal and natural and touchable to him.

            He shut the door without expression and led her silently into his living room, showing her the couches and the kitchen and gesturing to the door that led to his untidy backyard and porch. She wanted to see the upstairs so he showed her that too, relieved that he had picked up his room this morning. He watched her from the doorway, one hand against the wall, as she roamed about his room with her hands at her sides, glancing at his shelves and drawers and bed, noting the colors he used in his décor, the bits of clutter that personalized the space. Heero watched her until she turned to glance at him, smiling slightly, and joined him again at the doorway. Without a word he led her back downstairs.

            Perhaps he should have spoken more, but he felt that Relena was not perturbed by his silences. 

            "Do you want anything to drink?" he asked her finally.

            "Water is fine," she said. He couldn't detect anything from her voice.

            "You can sit on the couch if you like," he said softly as he progressed himself to the kitchen. "When dinner's ready you can join me at the table. It's mostly done." She sat down and he watched her body fold gracefully, her slim legs crossing smoothly at the knees, before turning to the kitchen.

            Their second date was weirder than the first. Heero kept seeking for familiarity and found himself mostly self-conscious. He hated being self-conscious, especially in his own home. He used to not be self-conscious at all. That sort of thing took an awareness of society and a concern for the thoughts of others which was new to him. But he cared immensely what Relena thought. He was also more distracted by her body than he thought he would be, which didn't help, and began wondering when kisses and touches were considered permissible. His whole body seemed to be filled with electricity. He would have liked to wrap and arm around her waist.  He would have liked to do more, if he really thought about it, but not too much more, not yet.  He was still a little scared.

            Dinner was simple and homemade. Relena uncurled herself from the couch and joined him at the table, complimenting the food with a sweet politeness that made him smile secretly. But he paid little attention to dinner. He was more interested with what was supposed to happen after they finished eating. When the dishes were put away, Relena agreed to watch a movie and he let her select one from pay-per-view, a psychological thriller part criminal and part political. 

            Then he turned off the lights.

            Relena had settled in the corner of the couch, her eyes shining in the darkness as she looked at the television screen. He watched her from the wall beside the light switch until she looked at him. When she smiled, he approached her softly.

            "Heero," she whispered, and the darkened lights made odd shadows on her face. "What are you thinking?"

            She was his Relena again, Relena Peacecraft. He could tell by the glint in her eyes, the half speculative, half certain-sure gaze that caught at him suddenly. "Nothing," he replied in tones that made darkness seem smooth.  The thoughts he had just been having suddenly seemed a little wrong.

            She lowered her eyes, her hands relaxing limply over her knees. "Sit with me?" she asked, not looking at him as she moved aside so that there was room for him by the edge of the couch.

            Once more fascinated, he sat beside her, aware of the closeness of her body to his, the breath from her throat and her glistening eyes. He half opened his mouth to say something, but before he could speak the movie came on. Relena turned away when it did, sitting primly beside him with her hands on her knees, looking a little tense to him. He was tense too. He forced himself to relax, leaning against the armrest. Relena glanced at him and did the same, her shoulders sinking into the back of the couch. Heero found himself watching Relena and tracing the lines of her body more than the screen.

            "Have you seen this one?" Relena whispered when there was a break in the dialogue.

            "No," he said, wondering if she was feeling at all like he was, like the movie didn't matter hardy at all. He also didn't feel like himself. It was strange and discomforting. He didn't know what to think about it.

            "I missed what he said," Relena said later, during a crucial scene. He repeated what she had missed, still only half paying attention. She smiled and made a joke about his being able to pick up on things so easily. Before he realized it she had shifted on the couch, turning slightly so that her shoulder rested against his. If he had been able to make up his mind and summon the courage, he would have reached for her and brought her to lie against him. As it was, he merely stopped breathing and became dreadfully confused. 

            It felt so ridiculously juvenile. And yet. And yet… He reached for her hand, the one lying next to her leg, barely touching her little finger, merely brushing it experimentally. He had lost all focus of the movie. Her hand twitched next to his, dancing in a small space as if wishing to embrace his and yet not sure. It should be a difficult thing to hold her hand, but Heero found himself unable to just grasp it. He just stared at her manicured nails.  He vaguely realized that she wasn't watching the movie either.  Her eyes were pinned to a spot between her shoes. The silence stretched, the movie blurring into the background.

            "Relena," he said quietly. He had two fingers touching her hand now, carefully, like the brush of a feather in a sacred place.

            She turned her head, looking up at him with sparkling blue eyes. "Yes, Heero?"

            They both had to be thinking on their physical proximity, both afraid and desiring it to be closer, and yet they ignored it with such energy it couldn't help but be obvious, like an explosion in a tight room purposefully ignored. They were too reserved, too inexperienced, and too unsure to be too bold. Relena ignored the gestures of his fingers pointedly, looking into his face and sometimes at anything in the room except him. When she did look at him he found himself staring into her eyes, feeling strangely vulnerable and liking the feeling.

            "I wanted to tell you," he said slowly, "what our alliance, our friendship has meant to me…" He paused, not sure exactly what he was saying.  _I've never been in love with you_, he thought, _for a time I was afraid of you because I thought you might love me.. But now… _He wasn't at all sure what he meant. He wasn't even sure what decision he should make. "I'm grateful," he said. "You…" He really didn't know how to say this. "You're an amazing person. I don't always know what I want, but now I…"

            Her hand slipped suddenly into his, as if she had just gotten a clue that he wasn't going to grab her. He felt her palm against his and felt a surge of satisfaction that was difficult to express. Nothing in her expression had changed, though. Her eyes were serious, the serious, intense eyes he rarely saw in another face besides his own. He caressed her fingers, to soothe her, to communicate what he was trying to say. _I want to try this_. It was still a surprise when she caressed him back. He suddenly remembered that there was a reciprocal in this arrangement, and was surprised by how it made him feel.

            "You're amazing too, Heero," Relena whispered. She met his eyes for a moment and then looked away, her throat flashing as she swallowed and pushed her hair behind her ears with her free hand. "If you want to try this…" She hesitated noticeably, drawing back a little as if trying to gauge his thoughts. He didn't speak.

            They were sitting side by side, hands clasped, Relena with her head turned to face him, her shoulder touching his. He really wanted to pull those shoulders away from the couch and against his chest, but he didn't.  Her skin seemed to glow in the light of the television.  He wanted to touch it…her shoulders, her neck.  He just looked at her, wondering what she was thinking. She turned her head away again, toward the television. 

            He held her hand throughout the movie, clasping it even when their palms began to get sweaty, thinking constantly about how he could touch her more, draw her closer. He wondered if he should kiss her, and if so in what places, but he didn't think he had the courage. She might be offended. It might be too soon. He still thought about it.

            When the movie ended and the credits began to roll, they sat for several moments longer in the darkness, fingers intertwining now. Surely they were both way too old for this, but what had age to do with the first one? They were people unsure of themselves and each other. 

            Relena suddenly began to talk. Heero blanked momentarily, pulling himself out of a haze, and then attended to her words. She clutched his hand, caressing his fingers while she stared at her knees, and talked about her life. He began to get a feeling of how lonely she was.  It resonated with him. He broke in when a thread of silence hung between her words, echoing her sentiment. He could bring himself to talk about his feelings on his past, but he talked about the colonies, the empty halls of his home, his overgrown backyard. Relena talked about her apartment, her office, her travels in space.

            "It's so empty up there," she whispered. "I can never decide if it's beautiful or sad. It's something I want to look at, but…"

            "But not to live in," he finished. "Yeah."

            There didn't seem to be more to say but they said more, haltingly at first and then with less reserve. Relena listened as he talked about life on the Colonies and selected memories of his childhood. He had been lost in those days, he told her, living for a cause because he had to do something, anything, to know he was alive. He had never even been really sure if he had been trying to prove his own worth or discount it. She listened with understanding eyes, gazing at him with a look that seemed both knowing and interested. When he fell silent she told him about growing up in the conventional upper class, the rituals, the routine and formalities, all of it empty and meaningless until he dropped into her life. She squeezed his hand then, turning to look at him with her lower lip caught in her teeth and the skin above the bridge of her nose crinkled. He caught a seriousness in her words, a surge of emotion in her eyes, amplified by the way she squeezed his hand and seemed to be saying a million things she couldn't put into words. He wasn't entirely sure of any of them. For a second, he really felt he could kiss her, but instead he found himself saying, "it's getting late." It was almost midnight, far later than he meant to keep her for a movie, for a meager second date. 

            Heero felt something cold and wet touch the hand that held Relena's and he released her suddenly. Ted sniffed the scents in the air between their unclasped hands and then put his head on the couch, rolling his dark eyes to look at Heero pathetically. Heero looked at Ted half with annoyance and half with relief. Swallowing, he stood up, walking around the couch to let the black Labrador out the back door. When he turned around, Relena was on her feet, straightening her clothes and looking for her purse.

            Solemnly, he walked her to the door, a little sad now that he hadn't picked her up so he could drive her home. Instead, goodbyes were said before his front door. That was not the place to kiss anybody, even if he had the courage to. Relena fidgeted, as if waiting for something or trying to decide if she was supposed to wait. Before she could make up her mind, Heero stepped close and wrapped his arms around her. She returned the hug, her arms reaching over and around his shoulders, pulling him close. All at once, the scent he had caught tantalizing whiffs of on the couch overpowered his senses. He took deep breaths, inhaling the sweet smell, which really was like sugar and spice, and delighted at the way his hands wrapped around her middle to rest on her lower back. The small of her back seemed made for his hands. 

            When she finally left, he hardly took note of it, still awash in sensations, mind buzzing with the conversation and the feel of her hand in his. "I'll call you," he whispered, and had the satisfaction of seeing her smile before she disappeared into the darkness, swallowed by the soft velvet of the night. 

*****

            Relena drove home with only half of her mind on the road. The road seemed to blur in a succession of yellow flashes beneath her, to the point where if she unfocused her vision enough, she might believe that she was sitting still while the world flew under her. As it was, signs and trees and other cars just blurred by without importance, like a movie playing outside the window.

            She could still feel the impression of Heero's hands in hers, could still see his dark blue eyes gleaming in the light left in the room, eyes that looked into her face. To her, he looked and smelled like heaven, like something solid and wonderful, beyond all the desires of her heart. She wanted to sink into him when he looked at her like that; sharp, intense eyes sharp and intensely focused on her. For awhile she had studied his face, his nose and cheeks and eyes, hair and lips, wishing to touch him, to feel his arms around her. She had wanted him to kiss her. Several times she thought he was thinking about it too, but he didn't.

            It was all she thought about on the drive home, all she thought about when she parked her car and climbed up the stairs to her room. She thought about Heero as she brushed her teeth and hair, changed her clothes, washed her face and slipped into the cool sheets of her covers. She wondered suddenly, lying there, how it would feel to lie next to Heero in bed. She would bet he was warm, warm and safe, someone she curl up close to while she dreamed. Then she wondered about kissing him again, and other things, but mostly kissing. She had never been kissed and she so wanted Heero to kiss her, not for the first time in her life.

            She couldn't sleep for thinking of it. When and how did first kisses happen?


	7. Under the Stars

My soul is in a box shackled to the earth.  Oh, the humanity!    That being said…

Desires of the Heart

Chapter Seven

By zapenstap

Relena had been thinking long and deep about Heero Yuy, in distances and depths she had never thought or felt before.  She sat silent and stared at the mid distance, listening to her heart beat and letting her mind wander wherever it willed.  It wandered in circles around him, idly, intently, and she tried not to think that she was in love.  She had to keep her head.  Her heart was like a bird fluttering in her hand and she held it close, however quickly its heart beat and it wings struggled to break free.  She held it tight to keep it safe.  It wasn't safe to fly yet.

            He hadn't called, but she was still sure he would.  This morning she had had no doubts, but now it was getting late.  Her workday was over, she had just her shower, the sun was setting and she was thinking about dinner.  In a way, she was almost glad he didn't call too quickly.  After all, he was Heero and instinctively she knew that this whole affair was more difficult for him than it was for her.  If he had been too eager she might have been suspicious. 

            The phone ringing interrupted her thoughts.  She knew it was him without having to pick it up.  She could just tell.  There was the air of expectation, of course, but she would have known anyway.  

            She let the phone ring a few times as she crossed the room slowly in her pink cotton robe.  Her hair was still a little wet from her shower, hanging in clean strings around her face, parted by her ears and shoulders.  Her slippers, also fuzzy and pink, were soft under the soles of her feet, and warm for her toes.  Under her robe she wore nothing, and that made her self-conscious as she answered the phone, though there was no reason for it.

            "Hello?"

            "Relena?"

            She smiled, though he couldn't see it.  "Hi…"

            "I'm outside your house.  I'll be at your door in a few minutes."

            Relena almost dropped the phone in shock.  If she had been mildly self-conscious a moment ago she was flaming scarlet now.  She stammered a response that was less intelligible than the plaintive cries of a kitten and clutched her robe about her frame, completely at a loss for words.  "Heero," she gasped out at last.  "I'm not ready to go anywhere.  My hair is wet.  I'm not dressed…"

            "I'll wait for you," he cut in simply, as if her protest hardly registered as a problem.  She realized at once that Heero didn't recognize his arrival without warning as a breach in propriety.  He wasn't well versed in social customs and parameters.

            He hung up without a goodbye.

            Relena stared at the phone in her hand as if she held an object she had never seen before.  Then she shook herself, set down the receiver and flew up to her room as if she had sprouted wings.  When he said he would wait, did he mean in his car for her to come out or on her doorstep or in her living room?  

            Once in her room she opened her drawers and hastily and clumsily pulled on socks and underwear and a bra.  She had just snapped the bra behind her back when she heard a knock at her door downstairs.  Wild-eyed, Relena tossed her robe back around her shoulders, feeling only a little more secure, and tied it tight around her middle.  Bath robes were not, in her opinion, flattering garments.  Nothing could make you look less put together than wet hair, a bath robe and socks on your feet, but there was no help for it.   Leaving a guest at the door, even an uninvited guest, was the worst sort of manners.

            Once she was at least covered by her robe, her hair still wet, with no make up on her face and no shoes on her feet, Relena padded softly downstairs and opened her front door slowly and shame-facedly.

            "Heero," she began.  "I'm not ready yet.  You'll have to wait in the living room."

            He was well dressed.  It made her furious.  He wasn't dressed for a formal banquet, but he wore a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and dress pants that had clearly been creased and ironed.  Relena felt herself flushing red to hairline as she apologetically opened the door and let him step on her wood floors with his black, polished shoes.

            He had his hands in his pockets.  When she finally raised her head, he was just standing there, looking at her in what she wore as if he didn't notice it, or hardly thought it the least bit unusual or unexpected.  

            "Are you going to get ready?" he asked after a few moments, hardly any expression on his face at all.  He didn't avert his eyes from her, or say anything to make her feel either less or more comfortable.  His eyes were sharp and focused.  He noticed everything, but it was like he thought nothing particular about it.  Under his steady gaze, Relena felt naked, and then remembered how little she actually wore.

            She almost fled back up to her room.

            In a record time of ten minutes, the former princess of the Sank Kingdom descended once more in an emerald green patterned skirt that hung just below the knees and a matching short-sleeved shirt with a lighter green sweater thrown over it for warmth.  Her hair was hastily dried, still wet in the back, and some of it was caught up behind her head in a green ribbon.  When she joined Heero in the living room, her brown shoes with the wood heels caught on the carpet and she almost fell on her face.

            Heero caught her arm just above the elbow, steadying her, and she flushed again, though now she wasn't sure of the reason.  She felt his hand on her arm, the palm cool against her skin, the contact strangely satisfying.  As she steadied herself, she took the opportunity to curiously touch his shoulder with her fingers.  Her hand lingered on his forearm as she positioned her purse over her shoulder.  Her eyes kept darting around the room, never quite landing on him.

            "Let's go," he said, and she had to release his arm as he took a step forward and away from her.  

            She followed a pace behind, locking her front door on her way out, and trotted carefully down to the car.  Heero opened her door for her, not in a showy way, but just as if it was expected.  He did it without thinking about it or expecting to be thanked.  As he did, he touched the small of her back with his left hand and gently guided her to sit down.  She did, flushed and amazed that Heero had the sense to behave like a gentleman in this instance as if it came naturally, but showed no sense of propriety in almost anything else.

            When they were on the road, Relena studied the sunset, watching the sun sink slowly behind the hills like a ball of molten fire just too heavy to remain aloft.  As it sank the atmosphere exploded from the impact and shades of fiery red and orange bled across the sky.  

            "I'm sorry I didn't call earlier," Heero said quietly, staring straight ahead.  He drove with both hands on the wheel, as if that were the only way to drive, all ten fingers gripping the circular hoop with an efficient dexterity.  "I was out doing something and your house was on the way.  I thought it would make sense to just pick you up.  Where do you want to go for dinner?  Have you eaten yet?"

            Relena could only stare at him.  The setting sun washed his skin with a golden radiance and his hair shrouded his face like a silhouette, making his profile sharp and crafted and exact to the last detail.  The violence and beauty of the sunset was reflected in his eyes.  "No," she said slowly.  "I haven't."

            "I know a place by the park," he said in his subdued tones, almost as if he were talking to himself.  "Would you like to go there?  We can walk around afterwards."

            She accepted, but the significance of wandering alone with him in the park at night did not escape her.  Her hands felt suddenly cold, but her cheeks flooded with warmth.  Afraid she must look positively pink, she looked away and watched as the scenery glided past her eyes and blurred outside the passenger window.

            Heero was pensive during dinner and didn't speak much, but Relena didn't mind.  He wasn't thoughtless, but there was a distance about him that was cool in manner, self-contained and unsure.  She wondered if he was having second thoughts about her, but then why had he swung by and taken her out again?  Maybe he was adjusting, or deciding.  Her hands still felt cold.

            After they finished eating, Heero paid for everything while Relena sat very still, her hands clutching her purse.  When the waiter returned with his card, Heero gestured for her to get up.

            "This way," he directed as she silently followed him outside.

            The park was just behind the restaurant and side by side they strolled around in the grass, climbing steadily up a slope to a view that looked out over the city on the edge of the ocean.

            The night was clear and chill and full of stars.  They gleamed like pinpricks of white fire burning in the sky, each one a sun burning too far away for her human imagination to comprehend.   All clustered together in her sky, did each one gleam for other people to survive by, or merely for her to speculate at their combined and mysterious beauty?

            Relena knew she was asking herself rhetorical questions because she did not want to think about the concrete ones.  She was fully conscious of Heero being near.  It was beautiful here and they were alone, but she could not get her mind to work past that novelty.  He was present and that was all. Ideas of Heero trying to kiss her or hold her or do any of the things that most young people did in parks when alone at night seemed so far-fetched, even out of the question.  There were barriers between them, a respect for a relationship that had never been clouded by personal motive and desire.  And yet his presence still comforted her.  She always felt more fulfilled and complete when he was around, but it was as if that was enough; she should never want or expect anything more.  And yet…she found herself wanting to be physically closer.

            "It's really beautiful here," Relena murmured, venturing out a few steps on her own to break the closeness and take the pressure off.  The grass was soft and spongy beneath her shoes and the breeze blew across her cheeks and face like the finger touches of angels.  She stared out over the city, watching the waves lap up on the beach at a distance as the wind tossed her hair first into her eyes and then streamlined it away from her face as she turned her head.  She knew it would get tangled.  She hardly noticed the cold.

            From behind, Heero's hand reached suddenly around her waist and she shivered, starting slightly.  She wasn't sure when he had approached, but the contact threatened to break the barrier she imagined between them.  The touch was light.  She could barely feel his hand at all, but as his hand settled just above the curve of her left hip, her left hand crossed over her body to hold him there.  He stepped closer and she felt him looming behind her, larger and stronger and harder than she had thought.  Her eyes stared straight ahead of her, her stomach trembling under his hand.  She felt his head leaning close to her so that his breath blew warm and gentle across her neck and cheeks.  A thought struck her that if she turned her head, she would be able to kiss him, but she didn't.  The very idea was terrifying.  Yet Heero's right hand touched her hair, his fingers threading lightly through it, and the sensation was so pleasant and so lulling that she closed her eyes and managed to stop trembling.  When he spoke, it was in a whisper, for her ears alone.

            "It's strange," he said so softly she barely understood him.  "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, but when I'm around you I feel as if I ought to be somewhere else."  He hesitated.  His hands were still on her body and in her hair, softly touching her.  He didn't seem to know what he was doing, but she wanted more of it.  "I don't know what to think."

            Relena wanted to sink into the ground or melt backward into him.  She had her eyes closed still and couldn't open them.  A sense of pleasure was coursing through her, full and soft and steady, yet so powerful she could hardly contain it.  Heero's absent-minded touches were setting it off, stroking to life feelings she didn't know she had.  She was like a cat about to purr.  Those feelings flickered inside her like the wings of butterflies brushing her soul, causing her to feel nauseous and sensuous at the same time.  The soft and heated burning of desire glowed like an ember.

            She realized with surprise just how much she really wanted him to kiss and hold her.  But she didn't have the energy to open her eyes, much less turn around, and Heero wasn't moving.  If he wasn't going to kiss her she at least wished he would hold her tightly.  His hand moving through her hair was so relaxing and so sensitive she wanted to disappear into the feeling. 

            The feeling abated suddenly and she opened her eyes, feeling a sense of loss draining out of her as his hands left her and she came aware of herself independent from him.  The wind blew about her with a touch more chill than she noticed before and she clutched her shoulder to keep the warmth in.

            Heero was looking out over the city now, quiet and contemplative.  Whatever he was thinking couldn't visually be seen, but Relena couldn't help trying.  Was he looking at the stars or the sea?  

            Though she couldn't say why, it was at that moment that Relena knew for sure that this was what she wanted.  She remembered all the other guys in her past, remembered how they had meant nothing to her, and suddenly understood that Heero was special.  She always wanted him to be near.  It wasn't that she couldn't have romantic feelings for other people.  She wasn't going to say that Heero was the only man in the universe to possess this soul force that was so magnetic to her, but if there were others they were rare, very rare. She didn't have to be close to him to know that something was there, something that made her tremble inside when she thought about him.  In an instant she imagined him in her life forever, as her lover, her husband, her support emotionally and physically, not sure whether she should cultivate such thoughts or dash them away.

He turned to look at her and she approached him as if it were a summons, malleable by his eyes alone. He turned his head as she drew close, but when she stopped within inches of him he looked back at her and her heart began pounding.   She couldn't stop staring at his mouth, and knew the darting of her eyes must give her away. She had never before noticed how long and full his lashes were as she found herself glancing at them momentarily.  Swallowing, she looked away.

She wanted to put her hands on his waist and feel his body to make sure he was real and solid and tangible. And she wanted him to kiss her more desperately than ever, but a twinge of doubt remained.  Perhaps she was wrong.  And perhaps he didn't feel the same way about her.  They had been through so much, and so much had changed and was changing.  As much as she wanted him close she also wanted him to remain constant and she was afraid too much change would drive him away from her for good.  He simply couldn't be as well-adjusted as he was pretending, not after the part he had played in a war that, for him, has lasted a lifetime.

            He touched her cheek suddenly and she lifted her head, surprised to feel something like tears in her eyes.  

            "Heero," she whispered.

            They stood inches apart, facing each other with their spines straight and their feet firmly planted.  Relena's hands were clenched into fists at her side now.  Heero stood like an impassible structure with one hand casually lifted to her face, raising her head so that she was looking him in the eye.  His eyes were stationary, his expression unreadable, his body posture self contained and unexpressive.  Relena's heart pounded in her chest with a dull thud that echoed in her ears.

            "I don't want you to leave," she told him, and grasped lightly onto the wrist that was beside her cheek with her closest hand.  "I want to keep seeing you, and I don't want you to run."

            Relena studied his face, tracing the lines and structures to find a clue to how he was going to respond.  It was rare that she was able to predict what he was going to say.  It all remained buried inside of him.  She couldn't even read it in his eyes.  Sometimes, she could feel his thoughts, though, like a resonating of emotion.  But the words were always a mystery until he spoke them.

            "I'm not going to go anywhere," he said.  

            She believed him.  

In response, she leaned her cheek against his hand in relief and gratitude.  He watched her with searching eyes, scanning her face, her small nose and cheekbones, her pale blue eyes and creamy skin.  As she felt the coolness of her hand against her flesh she wished he would kiss her, kiss her right now, under the gleaming starlight on a hilltop that overlooked the city, with sincere words and something like promises exchanged between them.  She envisioned it in her mind, his leaning close, capturing her lips, igniting to flame the ember that burned low.

            "I should take you home," he said.

            Closing her eyes, she smothered her disappointment and said nothing.  

Just was she was about to pull away and walk back with him to the car, she felt his arms encircle her body roughly and suddenly, his hands digging into her sweater and clutching her tight.  She allowed herself to be pulled close to him, her head falling sideway against his chest, inhaling his scent and feeling him surround her simultaneously.  She cuddled close, not asking questions to which she would find no answers.  He hugged her and she took a moment to take in the material feel of him, a body that was not perfectly formed yet felt perfect to her.  Pressed up against him he seemed more vulnerable than she expected, and for a flash she felt that getting really close to him was possible.

When he released her she took his hand and he clasped it, leading her back to his car by the handhold without a sound.  She opened the car door herself this time, not thinking even to let him do it, and sat in the passenger's seat.  Heero circled around back and then got in beside her.  When they were driving, Relena took his free hand again.  She was surprised when he caressed her fingers, and wondered if he would kiss her on her doorstep, but when he pulled up to her house he remained in the car as she got out and let herself in.


	8. First Base

Desires of the Heart

Chapter 8

By zapenstap

            Heero knew that he wanted to kiss Relena.  He just couldn't figure out how to go about it.  He had been in Relena's company twice since the park, but only one of those was a date; the second they just spent time together running errands in the city after Relena got through with her usual work and had some space before late-evening meetings.  Heero almost felt that he was getting used to dating, working his schedule around an open evening to spend with her, and working it around her schedule too.  Somehow they managed to work out a lot of time, time neither of them knew they had, and Heero gradually began to forget what life had been like without her.

            The date had been to the museum.  There was an exhibit on the history of flying machines, which led into military flight and featured a section on mobile suits.  They had both been interested so they both went.  It was the first time he had seen her since the park, and there was a strange energy in the way they greeted each other, reaching to touch each other and drawing back at the last instant.  Relena's face had flushed pink in the cheeks when she saw him and he had been even more silent than usual, evading her eyes.  On the date they spent a lot of time walking across the marble floor side by side, awkward and aware of the incongruity between the distance and closeness that was between them.  Museums were like libraries, silent and in public.  From the time he picked her up he wanted to get closer, but somehow felt that they ought to maintain space.  Seeking ways to get her alone, he began eyeing hidden corners as possible places to lead her for the purpose.

             At one of the exhibits she had curled her slim fingers around the rail encasing a mobile suit prototype.  On impulse, he came up behind her and trapped her in small space by putting his hands on the rail on either side of her hands.  She froze for a moment, fingers tightening around the rail, and he was aware of her being aware of his proximity.  In that position, they were so close her hair tickled his nose. Then, quite suddenly, she fell backward and he felt her full body fall lightly and satisfyingly against his.  Automatically his arms went around her waist, both to steady her and to hold her.  Once she was there, it didn't seem strange to grasp her arms with his hands and just stand like that.   She relaxed in his grip, swaying slightly, and then laid her head back against his shoulder.  She closed her eyes, but he didn't.  The position gave him a clear view of her body and the way her chest rose and fell with languid sighs as she breathed.

            That was the closest he got.  When he took her home after that date, they lingered for long minutes on her porch, watching each other and talking in circles with inappropriate silences.  He didn't know what to do.  He had imagined kissing her so often by now that he had it down to such a degree that he was sure the real thing couldn't add anything to his imaginings.  He had studied the angles of her face, fantasized about the warmth and moisture of her lips, but on the porch he hadn't been able to touch her cheek or draw her in the way he wanted.  He remembered giving an excuse and watching her go inside before he went home, overflowing with frustration.

            Today, early Sunday afternoon, they were going to go for a walk in the city.  The weather was beautiful for the time of year, relatively warm and cloudless.  Heero parked his car on the curb and walked up to her porch.  They had been dressing down gradually since that first date, and he was comfortable to wear casual clothes now, jeans and a red, short sleeved shirt with small buttons and a crisp collar.  He chose red because it wasn't a color he wore often.  Thus attired, he waited for her on the porch, leaning against the thin black rail that encircled the little landing above the steps.  When the door opened he straightened.  

            Relena came out in a sleeveless black top with a slight v-neck and no collar.  The shirt was sculpted to her body, baring only her arms and shoulders and covering her midsection to the studded black belt that circled the waist of dark denim jeans.  Her jeans were fitted but not overly tight, showing her curves without emphasizing them, matching the shirt in their cut and depth of color, and she wore heeled sandals, which made her legs look longer and drew attention to little toes glossed in polish.  She wore her hair up in a ponytail, which he rarely seen before.  It changed the angles of her face and revealed her neck on all sides, but somehow it did not make her look younger.  Perhaps if she had worn a different color or a dress she would have looked like a baby with that cherub face of hers, but in a sculpted black top that bared her shoulders and those jeans she made his blood hot.  Heero didn't process such thoughts consciously, but the total presentation had an effect on him.

            "I have to be back by five, Heero," she said while he stared, reaching up to her ponytail and tightening the band that held her hair.  "I have an important meeting with colonial delegates."

            "That's not a problem," he replied, and looked away so his eyes would stop trying to undress her. 

            The city was starting to pick up with the movements of shoppers, workers and walkers by the time Heero and Relena parked the car and began at the corner of Fourth and Cedar Street.  Shop windows marched down endlessly in front of them, little boutiques competing with mammoth corporations on the same territory.  They stuck to the sidewalk, on the right of the passing cars, and took their time in the sun.  

            "What is your meeting about?" he asked as he walked along her right side on the sidewalk.  She walked with her arms hanging freely at her sides, poised and slender as a willow branch, and smiled at him as she turned her head.  "I'm not sure.  I was just informed about it today, when I was getting ready."

            "It sounds important."

            "It might be."

            As if to tell him something about her priorities, she slipped her hand in his and continued to smile, neither blushing nor looking away.  He smiled back, a softening of the face that somehow expressed the warm flow of energy that rushed suddenly into his heart. 

            "Come with me," he murmured.  "I want to buy you something."

            Attached to his hand, she had no choice but to follow, and came along behind him at a near trot as he quickened his pace and lengthened his stride.  She brushed escaped strands of hair away from her eyes as he rounded a corner and stopped to wait for a crossing.  The hairs still hung in her face as she turned her head to look around.  Cars rushed past on their left and people passed them on either side, shopping and running errands, but Heero held tight to her hand.  One or two people stopped to stare at Relena, noting who she was by the flicker of recognition that flashed through their eyes, eyes that then leaped to the boy to whom she was attached with lightning accuracy.  Heero ignored them but Relena smiled back, her fingers clamping around his as she drew close to his shoulder.

            When the walk signal flashed permission to go, Heero led the way across the sidewalk.  Once across, he turned the corner and headed south toward the water.  Relena kept pace with him, a look of delight on her face and something almost like disbelief in her eyes when she looked at him.

            The flower shop was open and ready for business.  Heero had noticed it accidentally in the past and had remembered it on that first attempt to pay Relena a visit that was meant to be more than a social call.  The flowers were fresh and varied and not as expensive as the precut and arranged bouquets one could buy at a grocery store or plant nursery.  A soft _ding_ announced their presence as Heero opened the door, Relena clinging to his wrist with both hands now.

            The shop keeper was the same man Heero remembered the first time he entered the shop.  He looked up when he heard the ring of the bell and his eyebrows lifted expressively when he saw Heero.  When he saw Relena, his eyes widened noticeably, his hands freezing in a stopped gesture of welcome.

            "Heero," Relena murmured appreciatively, looking around at the plants blooming in the room like a small jungle or an overgrown garden.  

            "Pick out something you like," he suggested.

            When she looked at him, her face soft and round and pretty, hair gathered up behind her head, he hoped she wouldn't refuse, or suggest he do the choosing.  But all she did was smile and then move about the store, gazing at the orchids and the lilies and the roses each in turn.  Heero stood in front of the counter as she browsed, watching her.

            "Is this your special girl?" the shop keeper asked suddenly, incredulity coating his voice.  "Relena Peacecraft?"

            Heero didn't answer.  He had forgotten the shop keeper, but even reminded of the man's presence and knowledge of his last purchase, he had nothing to say.

            Relena chose a bouquet of twenty blue irises, though she refused to explain her choice of flower.  The shop keeper gathered them for her with a smile.  Methodical but professional, he cut the stems, arranged the flowers with some other, sharp-leaved plant, tied them securely, and then wrapped the assortment in moistened towels, followed by wax paper.  He handed them to her gently, smiling as if at a favorite daughter, and thanked Miss Peacecraft for her patronage of his shop.  As they left the shop, Heero felt him watching them, but for some reason it wasn't terribly upsetting.  Something between the park and today had changed; he wanted people to know.

            For the rest of their time together, Heero paced beside Relena protectively.  Holding her flowers in the crook of her elbow, she stared straight ahead, yet he felt her thoughts on him, and reveled in the attention.  At intervals he touched her back as he had in the park, drawing her close when it wasn't awkward.  At four, after two hours of shopping, walking, talking sparsely, Relena announced regretfully that she needed to return home and prepare for her meeting.

            He missed her before they even reached the car.  Because she was holding the flowers, he opened the door for her and then walked around to the driver's side, thinking about the sensation in the cavity behind his rib cage.   As he drove, the feeling intensified. Relena sat quiet in the passenger's seat, playing with the flowers.  He remembered what he had thought about her never fidgeting and felt a tightening in his stomach.  She smiled as she caressed the petals, but as he eyed her fingers, she wished it was him she was caressing like that.  

            _Crazy_.

            When he pulled up to the curb he stopped the car and sat still, looking down at between his shoes and then out the window before turning to look at her.  She had been looking at him the whole time, and there was something in her eyes that told him what she wanted, that was waiting for him to make a move.  Yet as he stared at her he couldn't imagine leaning over the gear-shift to kiss her with flowers in her lap.

            Though he desperately wanted to.

She got out of the car.  She didn't seem angry or disappointed.  She had the same sweet contented smile on her face, and if there was that small worrying crease on the brow, it was a small one.  

            "I don't know how late my meeting will go," she said.  "But I'll call you."

            "All right." 

            She stepped away from the curb.  "Thank you for the flowers.  Heero."

            When he got home he damned himself, cursing silently.  She had looked so good.  He wished her had chanced it, kissed her, in the car or on the sidewalk or even in the museum, anyone watching be damned.  He wished he had backed her into every corner at every opportunity.  He wished he hadn't thrown away that first bouquet, or had run to Mandred for help.  He wished he hadn't sounded like an inexperienced fool on the phone, or had tried more at conversation.  Something about this girl was getting to him.  Something about her rang something inside him, like that little bell on the door of the shop, and he wanted it to go on ringing.  Girls had not been a high priority when death loomed so largely on the horizon. But now, after only a few years of domestic living, of watching other people interact, of growing up in the ways he had never had a chance to before, he began to understand what all the fuss was about.   

            He wasn't really sure what made him get back in his car, leaving dinner untouched on the table.  

            Relena's office was devoid of most of its personnel after hours, but a late-night secretary was sitting behind the desk in the lobby and security guard stalked the perimeter.

            "Excuse me," the young woman behind the desk objected when he began to move past her on the way to the stairs.

            He paused only long enough to be heard.  "I'm gundam pilot Heero Yuy.  I'm here to see Vice Foreign Minister Relena Peacecraft."

            The titles confused the woman long enough for him to make it to the stairwell and out of her eyesight.  He heard the security guard question her if he was a problem and her return answer that everything was all right before he continued upstairs.  Heero hoped Relena was safe these days.

            Her office door was open and by the look of things, her meeting had been brief as it appeared that it was over.  Heero knocked twice on the wall and stepped in without waiting for a reply.

            Relena was dressed in her business uniform again, just a skirt and a white blouse with a small tie.  The skirt circled her waist and tucked in the blouse, molding her figure into a womanly shape.  Her skin was pale against the thin white of her blouse and he could see the outline of her bra wrapped snuggly over her small breasts beneath.  Her hair was newly washed and hung down her back, clean and fine, the color of honey with highlights of wheat.  She was standing in front of her desk, arranging papers, and looked up when he came in.

            "Oh, Heero.  I was about to call you."

            She looked tired and a little unhappy as she pushed a strand of hair away from her face and leaned over the desk. 

            "I have to go on a business trip tomorrow morning," Relena said, scrubbing a hand across her face wearily.  "To the Colonies to deal with a political… I don't really want to talk about it, but I'll be gone for at least a week by the look of things."  She paused, staring at the ground, and then looked up at him.  "Heero, I don't want you to give up on me because of this.  In the future I may be gone a lot, but I…"

            "Why would I do that?" he asked quietly.  "You have to go.  It's your duty.  I understand that you have work to do."

            "Of course," she deferred demurely.  "I just want you to know that this time with you has meant a lot to me and I understand that things are…difficult."

            He approached her without comment, his gaze sharp on her face.  He saw himself in her eyes, dark hair shading penetrating blue eyes that caught and held her as he reached gingerly for her hand.  Wrapping his larger fingers around her small, delicate ones, he pulled her hand to his chest, along with the rest of her, and caught her just before she bumped into him with his other hand lightly touching her jaw. 

            Her babbling was losing its force.  "It's just that I know you and I know me and I can't be sure…" She faltered.

            As his fingers stretched to envelop her cheek, he saw her eyes process the moment briefly just before he closed his eyes and kissed her.  It was like what he imagined, her small mouth and lips sweet and warm, but he thought little about the mechanics of it.  There was a feeling in his gut, something sharp and tight that trembled when he first touched her, and all the breath was drawn from his body.  And then she was kissing him back, moving her mouth against his repeatedly.  Caught in an under-toe, he did what felt right, whatever increased that feeling that was making the surface of his skin shake and shiver.  He raised both hands to her head, pressing her hair softly against her ears as he kissed her, not thinking much of anything.  Her hands were on his chest, elbows lowered, and as he dropped his arms to wrap them around her waist, his mouth broke automatically away from hers as he pulled her too close to kiss, instead enveloping her in his embrace.  She stayed small against his chest and then pulled away.

            From the way her eyes glimmered, he thought she meant to say something, but instead they kissed again.  He touched her face and the kiss was brief, but it was followed by another and a caress of her neck.  She continued smiling at him and managed between contact to tell him the time of her flight and where she could be reached.  Half listening, he kissed her again.  She told him she would call him everyday while she was gone if that was what he wanted.  Her lips tasted like sweet berries.  He couldn't get enough. Eventually, she shut up and melted into him, her arms soft against his body, her lips searching his with the same sensuous need that made his knees feel weak.

            He stopped kissing her when he ran out of breath, pulling his head up to take in air.  "You need rest," he whispered, threading a hand through her hair to cradle the back of her head.  "And you need to pack.  You may have presentations to prepare."

            She watched him with searching eyes as he opened the door to her office and walked her to the lobby.  The receptionist eyed them as they glided past, especially when Heero put one hand behind Relena's back and opened the door for her.  

            "I'll call you," Relena said again when they were both outside and night washed them in a bluish darkness.  

            Heero straightened the collar on her white blouse and kissed her again, stretching his neck to capture his lips.  He touched her face when he pulled away, tracing the shape with his hand.  "When you get back…" he said.

            "I'll want to see you," she replied, a faint blush rose in her cheeks.

            He smiled.  "Have a safe trip."

            "Thank you, Heero."


	9. Back Home

Desires of the Heart

Chapter 9

By zapenstap

            Heero tried to keep his mind on his work. 

            He did odd jobs for the most part, usually from home on the computer, though occasionally he would do something elsewhere.  His listings were online, under a variety of disguise identities, in addition to the more secret track for Gundam Pilot 01.  People called him regularly to do things when they felt they needed an expert.  He rarely interacted physically with his beneficiaries; most everything was done anonymously. A lot of the time, people weren't aware of his age or history; they just heard rumors about so-and-so.  Heero was valuable as a hire because he maintained a good work ethic, never did anything illegal, always accomplished the job and kept a low profile.  Usually he was hired as something of a detective, locating lost money or persons or transactions.  Sometimes he did other things.   Occasionally he even assisted the Preventors on a case, but not too often. When there were no jobs of that sort coming in, he worked construction, or with mechanics.  All in all, he was able to pay the bills.

            Heero kept his mind on his work, but it wasn't enough.  Relena was in space and he found himself thinking about her.  She called him every day, sometimes twice a day, and he found himself looking forward to those calls.  Because of security reasons, it was difficult to call her, but the waiting kept him interested.  Otherwise it was just living, going through the motions of his day in distraction, wondering what she was doing.  He had thought about following her to the Colonies on the excuse of protecting her, but he didn't think it was necessary, or appropriate.  She would be back soon.  He just had to exercise patience.

            Naturally, he worried about disaster.  There hadn't been a real incident endangering Relena's life since well…himself, but suppose hidden faction groups took this time to kidnap Relena, right at this crucial time in their relationship?  Why anybody would do this or seek to gain anything from it was a mystery, but the thought occurred to him.  If such a thing were to happen, he imagined what he would do.  Of course he would rescue her, but that wasn't the point.  He had never thought about rescuing her as anything other than a political icon before.  The expectation that would be put on him as…as… he struggled to put a name to himself for how he was feeling about her.  Well, hopefully she wouldn't get kidnapped.

            Of course, if she _was_ kidnapped…

            These were the thoughts that occupied him while Relena was gone. Strangely, they weren't that different from the thoughts he had about her in the past.  Back then, after the war, he had been fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, not ready for her yet, for any girl, not ready for a lot of things.  But recently he wondered, a lot, about cementing his position as an adult.  The instinct was almost overpowering.  There were those thoughts, and now there was Relena, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to equate the two.  So he fantasized.  He had enjoyed kissing her.  He couldn't refute that he liked her.  There was about her something that was like him, something he needed.  He wanted to spend more time in her company…except that she wasn't here.

            For a whole week.

            His eyes narrowed scornfully.  A week wasn't a very long time.  A few months ago, if he had overheard anyone complain about the absence of someone for so short amount of time, contempt would have been his immediate reaction.  And yet… He didn't complain, not out loud, but the time seemed to crawl by.  He wanted to kiss her lips again, touch her hair, hold her close, just talk with her…and he couldn't.  For a whole week.

            Maybe someone would try to kidnap her after all, and he could…

            Luckily, Relena's safety was never threatened, and the next Saturday, after so much time where all he had of her was his dreams, she called him.

            He picked up the phone knowing it would be her.

            "Heero?"

            Relena," he murmured, twisting his neck to look at the clock on the wall.  Ten o'clock.  Heero crossed the room with the phone in his hand and sat on his couch, leaning against the arm rest with his feet propped on the adjacent cushion.   "How are you?"

            "I'm fine.  Um…I called because we're finished here and I'm going to be flying back as soon as possible.  I should arrive at the Spaceport tomorrow afternoon, board a plane and be at the airport in the evening. Can you pick me up?"

            "Yeah. I'll be there.  What time?"

            "They're estimating 6:00 right now.  I'll call you if there are changes."

            "Okay."

            There was a bit of awkwardness.  Business was concluded, but neither of them wanted to hang up, and they didn't know what more to say.  Maybe they were both imagining the greeting they would give each other.  Heero had dreamed of kissing her upon her arrival all week.  He hoped she did too.

            He thought he could feel her smiling.  "Heero?" she said after a moment of silence.  He imagined her twisting the phone cord in her fingers. "I miss you."

            She sounded so happy, and he wasn't sure what to say.  "I miss you too," he said after a moment.  "I'll be there on time."

            "Thank you."

            When he got up on Sunday he paid particular attention to his appearance, wearing a dark, almost indigo blue dress shirt to bring out his eyes, and black dress pants to intensify the color.  As Relena had not called again and left no messages, he figured that her arrival plans had not changed.  As he drove to the airport, he felt a little nervous about seeing her.  After that beautiful kiss and that awkward goodbye, here he was, going to see her and continue on where they left off.

            Relena's plane didn't come in until seven, but he wasn't worried about the time delay. Such things were common.  He sat in the spaceport alone waiting for her, one of the only people in a room full of empty chairs.  He had never waited for anyone one for an hour in an airport before.  He felt a little strange, especially for being so dressed up.  Why did he dress up?  He should have worn something casual. He was just picking her up after all.  No big deal.  Eyeing the few people in passing, he began to think that they _knew_.  Not that he was embarrassed.  Quite the opposite; it was just… it had been a week since he had seen her last, a week since he had kissed her for the first time.  He was nervous.

            He saw her plane land from the window and managed to watch it roll up to the loading gate without getting out of his chair.  He even managed to stay relaxed while the passengers filed out, though he kept his eyes on the tunnel to catch a glimpse of Relena as soon as possible.  When she came into view, he stood up, rollicking to his feet and then stiffening his knees.

            She came to him, smiling in a blouse of pale cream with a rounded collar edged in lace, a knee-length skirt of soft, woolen white and heeled shoes with open toes.  Her hair was half pulled back with a silver clip, the way she used to always wear it, only without the braids.  She smiled and eyed him through her lashes and he smiled back, a genuine, pleasant smile that was so rare to see and so utterly real.  She was nervous too, he realized, but from the gleam in her eye, he knew what she wanted.

            People were still filing from the plane, business associates of Relena's, coworkers, politicians, lobbyists, and personal relations specialists.  He shouldn't kiss her here.

            "Come on," he said.  "We'll get your luggage.  Are you hungry?"

            "A little," she said, following as he turned and led the way to baggage claim.  She had smothered any trace of disappointment she might have felt from her voice, but he wasn't fooled, and he wasn't going to allow her to be disappointed for long.

            Heero glanced over his shoulder as they walked.  They moved quickly away from the other unloading passengers, shoes clicking along the tiles.  As soon as they were away from the crowd, he turned suddenly around a corner.  Relena followed right on his heels, opening her mouth in questioning surprise, until he turned and grabbed her by the hand and by the waist.  She only had time to see him smile.  Without slowing to explain, his fingers dug lightly into the clingy silk of her blouse, his nose inhaled her perfume and the clean scent of her hair, and he kissed her smoothly.  Her surprise lasted only for a moment and then she was relaxing against him, kissing him back voraciously.

            When they separated she didn't speak, but only gazed at him as he took her hand and led her out of the corner.  

            "Heero," she whispered, and faltered.

            His whole body shook with sudden desire and he swallowed unsteadily.  "Come on," he said.  

            Her hand rested on his shoulder as he turned, and then found his hand.  He took it without hesitation. 

            After collecting her luggage, Heero drove Relena first to her home, but she promised to come to his house for dinner after she unpacked.  He carried her bags for her, taking them in and out of the car and hauling them up the stairs.  Once he was in her room, she allowed him to look around while she opened her suitcases and separated her clothes.  Relena's room was decorated with frills and lace and soft, girlish colors.  Heero smiled as he admired it.  So like Relena.  There was nothing masculine about her except her independence, strength and fiery spirit, but by the way she was, Relena showed such traits to be as much feminine qualities as masculine.  The girlishness didn't detract from her spirit. Relena was a girl, down to her glossed nails and long hair and the pink lace curtains on her windows.  She was a girl and Heero liked it.

            Her bedspread was white with a lacy skirt.  She sat on it, her legs folded demurely under her skirt, sorting out the things in her suitcases while he walked around, looking at the pictures she had of her foster parents, and also of Zechs.  He noted the teddy bear he had given her, propped against the window.  The blue iris flowers were there too, dead now without water for a week, but she had put them in a crystal vase on her dresser.  He would have to get her new ones to replace them.  Every so often he glanced over his shoulder at her, or caught a glimpse of her in the mirror.  She sat on the bed, unpacking, and he thought suddenly that he had never seen anything so adorable.

            At length he crossed the room and sat on the bed behind her.  His legs touched the ground off one side, but he was only inches from her.  She kept unpacking, hands moving efficiently to stack her things in different piles.  She only had two suitcases.  She was almost done.  He watched her for a minute, staring at the way her hair fell forward over her shoulders, eyeing the material of her shirt as it spread across her back.  

            Quite spontaneously he reached out and began to massage her shoulders from behind.  She stopped moving, her fingers hovering over her piles.   He wasn't sure what made him do it, but he liked the way she suddenly sighed and tilted her head back and relaxed under his fingers.  She closed her eyes and he kneaded her skin a little deeper, working through the knots in her back, smoothing her hands across her shoulders.  He shifted until his legs were up on the bed and his back was propped against the headboard.  Then he pulled her back with his hands.

            "Oh, Heero," she whispered, and collapsed backward, lying across his chest, half on her side, her body curving against his.  His arms wrapped around her, holding her close as he breathed in the soft, clean scent of her.  He felt suddenly tired, contented, but in a way, more alert than ever.  His hands seemed suddenly large as he stroked her hair behind her head.

            "Maybe we should just stay here," he said in a quiet tone after just a few minutes.  "Are you tired?"

            "No, I slept all the way on the plane."  She buried her face in his shirt, which increased his attention for some reason, perhaps he could feel the air from her nose on his skin, and because it was almost like she was kissing his stomach.  Urges stirred in him.  "I am hungry, though," she murmured.

            "I said I'd make you dinner," he said quickly, and lifted her off of him smoothly, swinging his legs back off the bed. "At my place.  I bought steaks and there's pasta and French bread."

            She smiled.  "Can I change first?  I've been wearing this suit for almost forty-eight hours."

            "All right," he said.  "Do you want me to wait downstairs?"  Stupid question.  He couldn't watch her change.

            "Yeah.  I'm just going to put on something comfortable if that's okay.  I've been in heels and nylons all week.  I want to wear sweats and tennis shoes."

            She did wear sweats and tennis shoes.  Her sweats were a baby pink (the choice of color didn't surprise him) but not ugly and bulky. They were slimmed to fit her figure, though not tight, and they really did look comfortable.  She wore a white hoodie zip-up sweatshirt over a white tank top, and except for sturdy sneakers and her underclothes, she might have been ready for bed. 

            It was eight-thirty by the time they arrived at Heero's apartment and by that time he was hungry too.   It was dark outside, the stars shining in the crisp spring air when Heero pulled up to the curb and parked.  Relena let herself out, shutting the door behind her and he put an arm around her shoulders to keep her warm as they walked up to the door.  After a moment of fiddling with the keys, Heero opened the door and let Relena inside first.

            Ted bounded down the wood floorboards, his toenails clicking and clacking as he hurried to greet them.  Relena petted him, scratching him behind the ears as he sniffed at her to re-familiarize himself.  Once satisfied, he welcomed Heero with a soft of whine that complained of inattention.  Heero greeted his dog, but had to use the force of his legs to clear a path through the Lab's body for him and Relena to walk down the hallway.  

            Relena sat on the couch at first while Heero cooked for her, but then joined him in the kitchen.  He kept staring at her body as she moved around, getting dishes and glasses to help set the table.  Her clothes weren't revealing, and they weren't tight, but they were soft and supple and he could see the outlines of her limbs and butt and torso as she moved.  Especially her ass.  He stared at it without realizing what he was doing for awhile, and when he finally noticed he wasn't sure how he should feel about it.  She looked so comfortable he wanted to cuddle her.

            When he reached for her, she smiled over her shoulder at him, strands of brown-blonde hair slanting across her face.  He pushed them out of the way and kissed her as he drew her close, bringing her hips sideways into his and wrapping one arm solidly around her waste.  Her clothes were soft and they gave way to the pressure so that he could feel all her curves without seeing or really feeling anything.  She felt nice, soft and warm.  She smelled wonderful.

            The oven dinged as he was holding her and she maneuvered out of his grasp, still smiling, and set out the silverware as he watched her escape.  Then he followed her, bringing the food to the table.  She sat across from him, glancing up into his eyes every once and awhile, and while they ate, he asked her about her trip.

            "What was it all about?"

            "Oh, the usual sort of problems, Heero.  Arguments over the wording in official documents, people being stubborn about giving their signatures.  It was mostly about disagreements regarding resource allocation."

            "MO IV is doing well, I hear."

            "Yes.  That's one reason why it's so ridiculous.  It's not even something I'm supposed to deal with, but whenever a problem in space blows up large enough, they call me in."

            He smiled and pointed his fork at her.  "It's because you have a good effect on the people.  People become more…reasonable when you're around.  You inspire people to cooperate.  No one wants to look selfish in front of you."

            She blushed the color of her sweats and he smiled secretly at his ability to make her blush.

            She rallied to throw it back at him.  "That's not fair, Heero.  _You…"_

            "Let's not do this again," he interrupted.  "Just take a compliment."

            She smiled demurely, and a little wryly, and took another bite of spiral pasta.

            She helped him with the dishes, drying and putting them away while he washed.  Once that was done they moved to the couch and sat down to relax.  Heero was more comfortable than he could ever remember being.  Relena settled against him without hesitation, leaning back against him with her head on his chest.  She seemed so relaxed and so content and he couldn't help but reflect the feeling.  He didn't want to move.

            "Are you going to have to go back to Space?" he asked her, toying with her hair.

            "Oh, I hope not," she said.  "We'll see, but I don't think so." She paused.  "If I do, you could always come with me."

            He nodded.  "Maybe.  If it's not inconvenient."  Reaching for the remote with one hand, he switched on the television and searched until he found something vaguely appealing.

            He then relaxed one arm and softly kneaded through her hair with the other hand, conscious of the way she was relaxing into him and happy to hold her while the colors on the television danced and flickered. He was tempted to stroke her body, just gentle touches up and down her sides and across her stomach, but he didn't.  He held her and time passed.  Ted settled himself at the foot of the couch, closing his eyes in a restful slumber.  Outside, the night's darkness deepened and the world got quieter.  

            "What time is it?" Relena murmured suddenly, her voice pulling him out of something close to a slumber.

            Heero paused before he answered, knowing where she was going with the question. "Almost eleven."  

            Relena sat up.  "Heero, I have to go.  It's late."

            He let her up, breathing deeply as her weight left his body.  His clothes were plastered to his chest, molded by her shape, but he sat up too, shaking them out.  Relena sat with her back straight and her legs and knees pressed together, fixing her hair with her arms over her head.  He watched as she made all her little, minute adjustments and then stood up, looking for her purse.  For a few minutes she moved about the room while he remained on the couch, and then, when she seemed ready to go…

            "Why don't you stay here tonight?" he whispered.

            She froze, one hand on the doorframe.  When she turned to look at him, her eyes were piercing.  "Heero… no, I can't do that."  The finality in her tone was the way he always remembered her, strong in her convictions, firm in her executions.  But she was always quick to leap to conclusions, and her solidarity didn't put him off.

            "Just stay over," he elaborated.  His tone was quiet, a bare murmur of a suggestion, not quite a plea, not even a petition.

            Her gaze softened as she comprehended what he meant.  She stared at him, emotions swimming in the depths of her eyes. "No, I…  I'm not even your girlfriend.  I can't stay over.  It wouldn't be right."

            "Just to sleep," he continued.  "You're all ready for bed.  We could sleep and I'll take you home in the morning, as early as you want."

            She brought a hand to her chest, half clenched.  He could see her thinking, turning the thought over.  To sleep with him in his bed, just sleeping, while he held her like he had been holding just now.   All night.  "No," she said finally, dropping her arm, and he heard the renewed conviction, stronger and more reasoned than her first decision.  "I don't think I should."  

            "It's okay," he told her quickly, and got up.  "I'll take you home now."

            He went to get his keys, silent, and felt her eyes following him.  "You're not mad at me, are you?"

            "No," he said, frowning over the tangle of silver on the counter.  "Of course not." He paused.  "I don't understand why you can't stay, but I'm not mad."

            He put on his coat and led her to the door.  She followed at a bit of a distance, clearly troubled.  "It's not that I don't want to stay with you, Heero," she explained as he opened the door and guided her outside with one hand behind her back.  Keys jingled as he locked the door behind him while she waited in the dark and the cold.  "It's just… You're not committed to me or anything.  And I just don't feel right about…"

            "Why do I have to be committed to you for you to sleep over?" he interrupted.

            She bit her lip.

            "Never mind," he said.  "Don't worry about it.  It's fine.  If it makes you uncomfortable, that's all I need to know.  I just thought it would be nice.  I don't mind driving you home."

            "As long as you're sure…"

            She was always so concerned.  He smiled at her.  Touching her face, he brought her in for a kiss, reassuring her that he was not upset, that nothing has changed.  "I'm sure.  It was just a suggestion.  Now get in the car before you freeze."

            She smiled when he drove her home and after a few minutes they were able to talk.  When he got to her porch he kissed her again, for a lengthy period of time, pulling her close and smoothing the skin on her neck and shoulders.  Kissing her heated him up, like there was fire rushing through him.  She didn't seem opposed when tentatively tested her mouth with his tongue, and the sensation heightened the strength of the heat in his blood.  She took his face her hands and kissed him too, exploring his mouth with her tongue, making him feel weak and exuberant at the same time.  Kissing her that way was strangely satisfying, especially after the disappointment of having to sleep alone, but he really didn't mind that, not if she wasn't comfortable.  When he finally pulled away he trailed a hand along her face, smiled again, and whispered goodnight.  She let herself into the house quickly, pulling herself away from him, breathing deep. He told her he'd call her tomorrow. He lingered on the step.  She stared at him through the screen of her door.

            When he drove home he kept his eyes on the road, but his thoughts were elsewhere.


	10. after the show

Desires of the Heart

Chapter 10

By zapenstap

            Relena thought about Heero as stared at her reflection in the mirror.  She looked ridiculous.  Her hair was rolled up in heated curlers and pinned to her head, bits of tissues sticking out from behind her ears where the curlers would otherwise be too hot against her bare skin.  She sighed, envisioning the final result that would be worth all this trouble.  Her looks never used to concern her much, but now that there was someone special to dress up for, she found herself wondering if she was pretty and how she could make herself prettier.  It wasn't that she thought a woman's most important asset was her beauty, not by any means, but society strongly suggested that attractiveness was _an_ asset, and why not utilize an asset if you could? 

            Besides, Heero was taking her out tonight, in public, where important people would likely recognize her, and she wanted to look her best.  Yesterday she went to a make-up store and bought expensive make-up that she usually didn't wear.  Her face was always made up before she went on the air, of course, but that was done by beauticians.  Recently she had been paying attention to how they did it.  Though she wasn't sophisticated enough to learn all their tricks, and not glamorous enough to spend her money on all those different brushes and shades and tones and colors, she picked up what she thought she could do for herself. 

            Now it was time for a test.

            She started with a clean face, removing all the dirt and sweat and anything else that might be clogging her pores.  Then she applied concealer, covering her few blemishes with a stick of thick, lipstick-like paste that was the same tone as her skin.  Relena also used a little concealer around the under part of her eyes.  She sometimes had shadows from lack of sleep, and the concealer hid those.  That alone was a dramatic improvement, and because Relena had a good complexion she was lucky enough to not have to use it elsewhere very often.  That was just the first step.  Further facial make-ups, Relena discovered, came in all kinds. There were foundation primers, foundation creams, foundation liquids, powders, loose powders, pressed powders and powder-liquids in one.  The only thing she knew for sure was that whatever you used, it better not be something that made your face look orange.  The most important thing was getting the right color, even if you had to spend a little, but better yet was taking care of your face so that you didn't need it at all.  Relena personally didn't like face makeup.  She didn't mind wearing it when she was put on camera because if did smooth imperfections and take away the shine on her face that resulted from the glare of the stage lights, but wearing it just around was a little too much work for her.  She had tried applying it, but even using sponges, the experiment resulted in lines and powder clumps and cracks that made it too obvious that she was wearing a lot of make-up.  When the beauticians did it, it looked great, but Relena decided to just leave the stuff alone for personal use.  The concealer was enough for the worst days, and if her face was shiny, she had a little bit of powder she preferred not to use.

            Relena worked on her eyes next.  Because it was so difficult for her, she applied eye liner first.  She only wore eye liner if she was going somewhere at night because the result always startled her otherwise.  Relena's choice of eyeliner was liquid black and even when applied correctly the black lines drawn around her eyes made her look a little more made-up than she wanted.  But in combination with eye shadow, it also made her eyes look luminous and mysterious.  Applying it was difficult.  She leaned close to the mirror on her vanity, balancing on her elbow, and pulled lightly at the corner of her eye with her ring finger.  Then, using her other hand, she painted the strip just above her eyelashes with the tiny brush.  She had to stay perfectly still during the process, painting that one thin line quickly and efficiently.  If she messed up, she could sometimes correct it, but more likely she would have to start over.  When she finished with both eyes, she was careful not to blink while it dried, and instead went to work under her eye using the same technique.  However, under her eye she only painted from the middle outward.  Otherwise, she would look like a raccoon.   As she waited for the liner to dry, she adjusted one of the curlers in her hair.  They were cooling nicely, but she didn't want them to cool completely because that would be a bit too curly.

            Heero was taking her to an opera tonight.  Relena had been to operas before with her mother, but Heero had never been to one. Still, when she expressed interest he agreed to take her.  She warned him that it was expensive, sung in German, religious and that he may not like it, but he told her he was taking her and that was the end of the conversation.  They were seeing Faust, Goethe's version, and Relena promised that there would be subtitles so that they could understand the words as well as feel the action through the music.  She called the theatre just to be sure.

            When the eyeliner was ready, Relena applied an eye shadow base that was close to a cream color with just a bit of a silver hue to it. She applied it over her entire eyelid and all the way up to her eyebrow.  Next, using a brush, she applied a dramatic, golden, glittery eyeshadow over just her eyelid.  Applying the shadow dimmed the effect of the eyeliner, to her satisfaction, and made an immediate difference in her face.  Next, she applied a dark rose color in the crease of her eye, which brought the combination to life.  It was just a little bit, enough to accentuate the effect she wanted, but she smiled in satisfaction as she sat back.  After the eyeshadow, came the mascara, which only took a bit of patience and a steady hand to apply, but it made her lashes seem as if they had grown a full centimeter.  The lower lashes were a little tougher, but watching them lengthen was worth the sweat.  Again, she was careful not to blink, but instead gazed into her reflection, smiling at herself.  Her eyes _were_ luminous, and lovely, without being overdone.  She thought with amusement that her eyes would never be as pretty as Heero's, but as long as she didn't tell him that it would probably be all right.

            After the eyes and face, the rest was easy.  Relena used lip liner around her lips to make them look fuller, then colored them in with a pink lipstick that brought some color to her face but still made her look natural and innocent.  She doubled her pink eyeshadow for blush, fond of the bit of sparkle it put to her cheeks.  She only used a tiny dab, a little dark rose rubbed vigorously around to give her cheeks a flushed, healthy look that was not even close to clownish.  The final touch was clear lip gloss smoothed over her lips.  She used the flavored stuff that Heero liked so much because it tasted like sugar.  She wore it every time she saw him since he had told her that.

            When her make-up was done, Relena proceeded to take her curlers out of her hair.  They were the large rollers, used for making waves, thought she tended to use a heated iron for the little strands around her face.  As she took the rollers down, her hair cascaded over her shoulders bit by bit.  They were a little too curled in some places, but that could be fixed with a flatiron.  The final result was a wealth of curls around her shoulders, bouncing and swinging when she turned her head.  Half of it she gathered on top of her head, twisting and tucking with pins until a crown of curls framed her head and the rest framed her face.  She set the whole thing with hairspray, applied liberally, and then glanced in the mirror to marvel at how pretty she could be if she set her mind to it.  Two hours preparation, including her shower.  Not bad.

            The dress was next.

            It was hanging on her closet door, sheathed in a plastic bag, turquoise silk gleaming as the caught the light from the lamps in her room.  Relena unwrapped it carefully, mindful to keep the plastic bag intact for storage later, and removed the dress.  She was dressed only in her underclothes and nylons and had been for hours.  She wore nylons to keep the silk from clinging to her legs when she walked.  Luckily, this dress could be pulled over her hips so she wouldn't damage her curls.  Otherwise she would have had to do her face and head while crinkling the silk.  She pulled the dress on without trouble, and turned to make sure the crossing in the back had not tangled.  It hadn't.  The thin straps were right too, arching delicately over her shoulders to connect a slightly curved bodice to the back. The silk smoothed fluidly over her hips and as long as she walked with a straight back and kept her tummy tucked in, it had a very elegant and slimming effect.  

            Her shoes were silver, a subtle glimmer that covered her toes and created the illusion of lengthened legs. Her jewelry was silver too, set with real turquoise of a brilliant hue.  Her earrings dangled, three stones in round settings hanging one from the other.  Her necklace was a choker with one giant turquoise resting in the hollow of her throat.  She touched it with her fingers, and smiled.  Her fingers were clipped, polished and manicured.  Everything was done.

            The doorbell rang at exactly seven o'clock.  The opera started at eight, but it was a bit of a drive to the theatre, parking might be tight and it was always best to get there early.  Relena descended the stairs with her handbag on her wrist, and answered the door graciously.

            Heero was all dressed up.  She had told him it would be a dress-up sort of event, one reason some people went to the opera at all, though not everybody dressed up these days.  But Heero had dressed up at her behest, and because he knew _she would want to dress up.  He wore a tuxedo, elegant and not out of place on him. Heero could fit in anywhere and look himself in anything.  He could look good in anything.  She had seen him do it a hundred times. _

            He offered her his arm.  She closed her door behind her and locked it, then took his arm with a smile.  When he didn't compliment her on her appearance, she wondered if it was because he was waiting for a better moment, if she was not that attractive, or if he just didn't consider doing such a thing.  She didn't mean to, but on the car ride down to the theatre she fretted about it, playing with the silk on her legs, feeling less and less confident at every street light they stopped at. She knew that looks weren't really important, but she had spent so much time on her dress and her hair and her make-up, skills she wasn't good at, that she couldn't help feeling a little cheated.  It had taken a little more bravery and confidence than she was used to exerting in everyday matters.  She had reached behind her boundaries for him, all to appear beautiful for him.  And he didn't say anything.

            "What's wrong?" he asked her when they were nearly there.

            "Oh, nothing," she said.  How silly, to complain that he hadn't complimented her on her looks.    She tried to smile.  It was nothing to get upset about.  

            His eyes narrowed.  "What's bothering you?"

            He could tell that she was troubled even when she tried to hide it.  It made her feel strangely warm.  Well, she might as well get it over with or spend the rest of the night fretting.  "How do I look?" she asked, trying to appear casual as she tilted the mirror.  Now she felt like she was fishing for compliments and that was not what she had wanted at all.

            "You always look beautiful," he told her pointedly.  "You don't have to get all dressed up and do your hair and wear make-up.  You naturally very pretty, just as you are.  You don't have to spend money on trappings you don't need."

            She tensed, her emotions mixing in a hazy maze of confusion.  Surely that was a compliment.  But was he saying that all that work was for nothing?  Was he saying that she looked no more lovely now than she did when she rolled out of bed in the morning, or the other way around?  Had he even really _looked_ at her, or did he just always imagine her the same way?  She decided to take it as a compliment, since that was how he had meant it, and because he had used the word beautiful, but the dress and the hair and the make-up that she had had such fun choosing and applying with him in mind seemed like such a waste now.  Mixed emotions. Of course, if she complained he would do that typical man-thing about not being able to do anything right.  She didn't want that.  She wanted to be gracious, and it was Heero after all, so she ought to be able to allow some leniency in his not understanding some social matters.  He had told her she was beautiful.  That was what she wanted, right?  

            "Was that really all?" Heero asked her. 

            Now she felt stupid.

            "What is this opera about again?"  Heero asked her.

            She was thankful for the distraction and reached into her purse for the pamphlet that had been sent with their tickets.  Turning it over, she summarized what she read on the back.  "It's about a man named Faust who makes a pact with Mephistopheles… uh, that's the devil, I think, to have a life filled with riches and treasures in exchange for his soul.  Faust meets Margarete, immediately falls in love with her, and demands Mephistopheles to help him seduce her.  Margarete forsakes her moral scruples for love of Faust and uses a soporific that Faust gives her to pour into her mother's nightcap so she and Faust can meet in secret in her mother's house.  When Margarete's brother Valentine discovers the affair, he accuses Faust of ruining his innocent sister and challenges him to a duel.  Faust kills Valentine and then he and Margarete are forced to flee the town…"

            "Are you going to tell me the whole story?" Heero asked her.

            "Not if you don't want," Relena said, still reading for her own benefit.  "It helps sometimes, because the story can be hard to follow.  You want to be able to pay most attention to the music.  The set and costumes are always really beautiful too."

            "The plot sounds pretty old fashioned."

            "Well, it is," she laughed.  "It was written in the 1800s.  But it's supposed to be a good opera.  All opera plots are pretty simplistic.  The story is told through music, and it's supposed to be more of an emotional than a mental exercise."

            "Hmm.  How many have you been to?"

            Relena flipped her wrist over to look at the time.  "My father used to take me every year since I was old enough to sit through it," she said with a sigh.  "Since he died… I don't know.  I just haven't wanted to go by myself."

            Heero didn't say anything.

            They parked the car in the underground parking lot in silence and climbed their way to the theatre.  Relena still held onto Heero's arm, her fingers lightly touching his wrist.  Their tickets were taken at the entrance.  They didn't get balcony seats, partly because Heero was paying and partly because Relena didn't want to single them out as important guests. 

            Heero sat stone silent throughout the first act, with his arms crossed and his eyes glued to the stage.  Relena rested easily in her chair, watching him occasionally and wondering what he was thinking, but too enchanted by the colors, the orchestra, the vocals of the singers to worry about it much.  It amazed her that such sound and singing was possible.  Even had it been in a language she knew, she wouldn't have been able to understand the words, but the words were not what mattered.  The action of the stage was tributary to the music.  It was the music that told the story, though the subtitles and the summary in her pamphlet certainly helped.  

            During intermission, Heero stayed in the theatre, silent, while Relena visited a ladies room the size of a bathhouse. Then she strolled around in the upper lobby.  Inevitably, she ran into people she knew.

            "Why, Miss Darilan, what a pleasure it is to see you at the Opera tonight."

            "Vice Foreign Minister, what brings you to the theatre?"

            "Why Lady Relena, if only we had known you had tickets."

            There were politicians and debutants, school teachers and just ordinary people who enjoyed musical productions.  She was kept busy greeting everyone until the lights blinked, alerting everyone that it was time to return to the theatre, she turned to see Heero standing in the shadows.  She was shaking hands with Mr. Greenwich, a business owner and financial supporter of many of her causes, when she saw him.  Heero had his arms crossed still, watching her with those intense eyes as he leaned against the wall. She smiled at him, and beckoned him over with her free hand so she could introduce him, but by then it was time to go back inside.  Not terribly disappointed, she thanked Mr. Greenwich for his patronage and instead joined Heero to go sit down for the rest of the show.

            "Are you liking it, Heero?"

            "Hm."

            The lights went black, the curtain went up, and the music began.

            After the production, Heero leaned over and kissed Relena on the neck. "I would never abandon you in prison," he whispered.  His kiss and breath was seductive.  Relena shivered, closing her eyes.  She remembered what Heero had requested the last time she had been to his house.  To stay over, to stay the night.  She imagined how it would feel to have Heero cuddle her in the dark, to have him close to her, able to touch her…  She felt warm, and her eyes kept drifting to look at the man beside her.  She wondered what she was thinking.

            They weren't on the road again until 10:30.  

            "So does Faust go to hell?" Heero asked her as they stopped at the next light. "That was a little confusing.  Didn't he go to rescue Margarette in prison?  Why was she in prison anyway?  She kept talking about some baby."

            Relena scrunched her brow and flipped through her pamphlet. "Margarette was accused of murdering her illegitimate baby, one she had with Faust, I guess, and also her mother.  I guess the sleeping drug Faust gave her to give to her mother was a poison.  When Faust finds out about Margaratte's fate, he curses Mephistopheles and then enlists his help to rescue her." Relena turned the pamphlet over.  "In prison, Margarette bemoans her fate, and then hears Faust calling her. She renews her love to Faust, but she shrinks from Mephistopheles and refuses to go with them.  She then admits to doing wrong and pleads to God to save her.  When Mephistopheles pronounces Margarette damned, the angels pronounce her saved."

            "So what happens to Faust?"

            Relena frowned.  "Well, he sold his soul and tried to get the devil to make things right.  He was unhappy with the way things turned out, but I'm not sure if he ever admitted any guilt.  I think he just goes with Mephistopheles at the end."

            "That seems kind of unfair."

            "I think there are other versions of the story," Relena said helplessly.  "Faust was a real person, but historically I think he was just some kind of radical philosopher that people were suspicious of.  The story about him is supposed to be dramatic and morally educational."  

            "I guess that makes sense."

            "Did you like it, Heero?"

            "It was too long," he said.  "I did like the music and the story was more interesting than I thought it would be, but I don't believe in any of that stuff about sin and the devil and being damned for leading a pleasurable life or being saved for admitting you're a bad person.  All that stuff."

            "Yeah, I know," she said. "I grew up with strong, Christian principals, I guess, so maybe it makes more sense to me."  She shrugged. "Are you going to take me home?"

            "Only if you want to go home."

            "Well…" She paused. 

            "Do you want to come over?"  He asked.  He eyed her out of the corner of his eye when he said it, and she saw the pulse in his throat quicken.  "You could stay over." 

            There it was again, the same question.  He must have been thinking about it too.  "Heero," she said.  "I don't have anything to wear, and…"

            "You can borrow some of my clothes," he said.  "I have t-shirts and shorts that will fit you.  And a sweatshirt if you get cold."

            "I…"  Her heart fluttered, like butterfly wings beating in his direction, delicately.  She wanted to.  Oh God, she wanted to go to Heero's and stay the night.  She wanted to feel what it was like to have his arms wrapped around her, what it was like to cuddle up close to him in bed.  Only… what she had told Heero was true.  She had grown up with strict morals and what Heero was suggesting seemed so unclear.  She was afraid to ask for clarification, afraid of scaring him with too many demands, or extorting anything from him that was insincere.  Still, she wanted to stay over.  She just…  "What is our relationship, Heero?"

            He was quiet.  "I don't know."

            "We're not friends."

            "No."

            "Are you seeing other girls?"

            "No."

            She bit her lower lip, looking out the window as the cars passed by.  "Do you want to…to keep seeing me?"

            "Yeah," he said, so resolutely her heart thudded.

            "Then… why can't I be your girlfriend?  Or…"  Her cheeks were red, her face hot.  "I just don't know if I would feel comfortable staying over and wearing your clothes and… I don't know.  Maybe it's not a big deal, but I just would like to know where I stand."

            "Girlfriend?"  He said the word quietly, with surprise, and didn't say anything more, but she could tell he was troubled by it.  He drove with too much intensity, both hands on the wheel, reading every sign in the dark, watching the lines in the road, eyeing the other cars.  "I just don't know if I'm ready for that," he said after a minute.  "It's…It's not you, Relena.  I really like you.  It's just…"

            "Okay," she said, understanding immediately, or trying to.  "I really don't mean to be pushy, Heero.  I'm just confused.  And… I really like you too."

            He nodded.   He was thinking hard.  She could see it in his face.

            "I would be happy to come over," she said.  She felt she owed him that.

            When they got to Heero's house, he offered her something to drink and then went upstairs to find her something other than silk, nylons and high heeled shoes to wear.  He came back down with exactly what he had described in the car: shorts, a t-shirt and a sweatshirt too big for her.  She changed in the bathroom, took down her hair and washed her face using whatever rudimentary soaps Heero had on his counter.  When her face was scrubbed clean and red from rough soap and rough towels, she emerged into the kitchen feeling decidedly odd in shorts and a white t-shirt.  Heero smiled at her, though.  She felt unattractive, but he seemed to like seeing her wearing his clothes and gestured for her to sit by him on the couch.  That couch was becoming very familiar.

            When she approached he took her into his lap, settling her across his knees and reaching up to push back her curls—falling apart now—and kiss her face.  The touch of his lips scorched her and she felt her stomach give a little flop as a line of desire coursed through her.  She didn't realize how much she had wanted to get him alone.  Smiling, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pushed her body against his, caressing the back of his neck with her hand and rubbing his hair.  She kissed his jaw and then his neck, closing her eyes as the heat between them seemed to gather energy, one from the other, flaring brighter and hotter with every touch.  When she mumbled nonsense, he grasped her legs under the knee and shifted suddenly, his other arm snaking behind her shoulders as he laid her down on the couch and gently fell on top of her.

            "Relena…" he whispered heatedly.

            His hands stroked her hair away from her head, brushing away the hairspray as he kissed her.  She kept her eyes open at first, staring into his face, breathing hard, and then gave up as she felt his tongue ask entry into her mouth.  She was aware of how intimately they were positioned, but nothing in her body protested the proximity.  Indeed, it felt wonderful. Sparks inside her were twitching and crackling.  She wanted more of him.  He kissed her neck, his hands still smoothing her hair, cradling her head, stroking her shoulders.   She found with a small shock that she wanted him to move on top of her, to mimic sex, or even to divest of their clothes and actually…

            She pushed at his shoulders, a little panicked.  It took him awhile to take the hint.  His eyes were filled with lust, hazy with a desire she had never seen in any man's eyes before.  It filled her with a flush that made her think of hues of red and pink, warm and soft and lovely, but he got off her, though he held onto her hand.

            She almost asked to go home on impulse, but looking into his eyes, she felt she couldn't ask that.  She had changed her clothes already, after all, and all he wanted was for her to sleep over.   He would take her home early tomorrow morning.  Besides, her body ached for him, pulsed for him.  It was so strong she felt a little dizzy, almost like she was buzzed on alcohol.

            "If I'm going to sleep here," she said, and swallowed.  "If I do, we can't…"

            He leaned in to kiss her cheek.  "I know," he said, and she felt his long, heavy lashes tickle her face as he kissed her down to her jaw, holding her chin gently in his hand. "Don't worry.  I can control myself.  It's not…"  He traced his other hand over her stomach and she shivered, but then she smiled.  She liked feeling this way. She liked the look she had seen in his eyes when he looked at her, that sexy, aroused look.  He was staring at her stomach now, his hand hovering over a strip of bare skin where her shirt—his shirt—had come up.  She looked at his face and was amazed to see how entranced he was, how completely drawn to her body his eyes seemed to be.  She had never really been able to imagine Heero like that, enthralled by such biological needs, but he was a boy, older now, wanting now, and she was here, feeling the same thing in ways she never was sure she would.  "It's not a problem," he finished.

            She believed him because she always did.

            His hands slipped under her shirt and she flinched, breathing deeply.  He didn't go anywhere.  He just touched her stomach with the flat of his palms, and circled around to her back.  But oh, how easy to reach up to her shoulders and pull her shirt off, or around to the front where her breasts were already so close to him.  His hands stayed low, caressing her skin in areas that were not off limits any longer, not since she didn't protest, but Relena's head was shortly swimming in a haze of physical need.  Growing more aggressive, she kissed him, leaning down to take his lips and renew their game of deciding whose tongue would inhabit whose mouth.  Before she was even sure what she was doing, she had reversed their earlier position.  Grasping her with a smile, Heero slid them both down on the couch so that they faced each other.  Relena was cuddled in Heero's embrace, her hands drawn up under her head as if she was praying in her sleep.  His hands were around her waist, still on her bare skin, caressing her softly.

            "It was hard not being able to touch you at the Opera," he whispered.

            "Why couldn't you touch me?" she asked back, so comfortable, so…awake.

            "Too many important people watching, people you work with."

            She was quiet a moment, reflecting on that.  Was that also why he had waited to kiss her when she got off the plane the other day?  Heero was being conscientious.   She smiled into his chest.

            "Heero," she whispered.  "I'm cold."

            She wasn't really cold at all.

            He reached up and pulled down the blanket that hung over the back of the couch.  It settled over both of them.  Now that they were under covers, Relena relaxed, leaning her head on Heero's arm, her face turned toward his chest, and closed her eyes.  He held her close, caressing her, and she concentrated on letting go of her fears and falling asleep.

TBC

Wow. Chapter 10 already.  You know, this wasn't supposed to be a long story.  When I started writing it I didn't think it would be much longer than it is now, but haha, jokes on me…that's not how it worked out.  But then, Temper the Soul wasn't supposed to be as long as it turned out either.  Oh well.  And yes, we're going to get into some rated R material fairly shortly…  I probably won't write full lemons, but how does everyone feel about detailed foreplay, limes, etc and how graphic should that stuff be?  I don't want to offend anyone or cross the R boundary (which according to television stretches pretty far!), but say your piece if that concerns you.  The story is moving in that direction and I would like to know what my audience is comfortable with.  If anyone is enjoying the story but would be upset by graphic sex stuff (full blown intercourse or anything that follows kissing) I can post extended chapters on my website or at Blissful Ignorance.  So don't be afraid to let me know. My private email is zapenstap@yahoo.com if you don't want to write about it in a review.  But do please write a review!  It's not about numbers.  I just like feedback so I know how my story is progressing from the viewpoint of the reader.  Thanks for everything!  Tune in next chapter.  


	11. In the morning

 Welcome. *waves a flag.*   

Desires of the Heart

Chapter 11

By zapenstap

Relena woke up twice in the early morning, aching, sore and uncomfortable.  The first time, it was because she had almost slipped off the couch.  The second time, she was cold, but it was still too dark to awaken fully.  When she opened her eyes just a crack, it was in a state of somewhat confused emotions.  She looked at Heero's face, asleep and oblivious to her presence.  He slept with his head titled up, neck and jaw extended to her line of eyesight, his hands limp, no longer touching her, chest moving slowly with the breath that entered and exited his lungs. Staring at him, half-cuddled in his embrace, she wondered at her feelings.  She always remembered him as this aloof, self-contained individual, but she had also always felt the softness in him that existed underneath the cold, harsh exterior, that sweetness that was kind and caring and protective.  Now, seeing him asleep in her presence, so vulnerable, she found that she wanted to touch his face, to trace the lines that made up his features from his forehead to his chin.  She stared at his lashes, long and beautiful… like the rest of him.  Her heart beat strangely, an intense, almost frightening reaction, and her body began to tingle with unfamiliar energy.  _Could I…she wondered__ Is it possible that I might really love him, after all this time of doubt, of thinking of him, of worrying for him?  With the thought dancing in her head, she shut her eyes, determined to force sleep to pull her consciousness under.  _

            Soft touches in her hair awakened her.

            "You stayed the night."

            It was awhile later when Relena's eyelashes fluttered open to sunlight streaming in through the windows.  She felt Heero's hands on her shoulders, his thumbs and palms caressing her bare skin.  Her body stirred at his touch, gentle as it was, and she was immediately awake, tingling as she had before, aware of her body in ways she had never yet been.  The sunlight lit up them both, and she was strangely aware of his clothes loose on her body, her legs and arms bare and pressed up beside him.  She turned, rolling to face him, her knees bumping against his thighs.  She swallowed, staring at him, but there was no surprise in his face, and nothing like lust to scare her.  Instead, he ran a hand through her hair and studied her face in such a way that her heart thudded again in her chest, a dull, hesitant beat that seemed to suck all her thoughts out of her head, leaving her motionless in his power.  

            He smiled and the hand that was in her hair caressed her cheek softly.

            "I must look awful," she mumbled, staring into his eyes.  There was still sleep in them, relaxed and lucid and drowning in color.

            "Don't say that," he said.  "You could never look anything less than beautiful to me."

            Relena melted, her reserve floundering.  He leaned in suddenly to kiss her, not on the mouth, but on the neck, his hot, liquid breath turning the tingling along her nerves to a sudden fire.  Maybe he wasn't so sleepy.  She accepted it without protest, her mind racing.  His hands caressed her shoulders, circled around her back, his fingers slipping under the back of her shirt.  Only moments and she realized she was trembling, that the mood had changed, that she could think of very little except for the sensations of her body. She tried to relax, to swallow, to breathe, but all she could think about was how she wanted him closer, covering her, coaxing the flame that flickered in her center and threatened to roar to life… 

            Her legs entwined with his as he bent his knees and crushed her close to his chest.  She wasn't sure how it happened, but she felt his thigh between her legs and hers between his.  Maybe it was a little wrong, but it felt right, and it felt good, and the heat in her body flared to a greater force.  He leaned over her, half beside her and half on top of her, kissing her neck and shoulders, jaw and cheeks.  She wanted to whisper something, anything, but she couldn't think of anything to say, and wasn't sure if she should be thinking at all, though she couldn't help it.  Instead, her hands went to his head, her fingers digging into his dark hair as he leaned over her body and whispered into her ear.

            She was aching with sexual desire she didn't know what to do with.

            His hands were on her sides, his fingers inching up under her shirt where she had permitted him to touch her last night.  He didn't speak, but his touches were words enough and Relena began to fear that things were about to go too far, and equally afraid that they would go nowhere and she would be left wanting.  Despite her fears she shifted under him, repositioning them so that Heero rested fully atop of her.  It felt so good…so right and so wrong.  She soaked up the feeling, both irresistibly attracted and repulsed, drinking in his weight, his presence, the gentle, seductive way he touched her.

            "Heero," she said again, this time in a different tenor, and though she traced a hand over his shoulders and up his neck, her body fluttered with fear.  She still wasn't anything definable to him and it terrified her on some level to be so close to him and not know where she stood in his affections. She wanted to know what she meant to him, and she wanted to know what he meant to her.  She had been raised to believe in love and marriage and modesty.  She had grown up in an elegant and old-fashioned household.  That she was in Heero's home, that she had stayed over night at all, was not comfortable with her personal sense of morality.  And yet, she felt, honestly, that at least some part was in love with Heero Yuy, and perhaps always had been.  And another part of her desired to be with him always, as he had always protected her, because of that feeling.  That same part of her wanted him in other ways too.  To reconcile her reservation to her desires… it was more than she could sort out.

            Heero must have sensed a change in her because he sat up, rocking back on his knees.  As she pulled her own legs up and shifted to a sitting position, he smiled at her, a sweet whisper of a smile that warmed her heart. She flushed with pleasure that he was so sensitive to her moods, understanding her even when she did not lay it out for him with precise words.  He leaned forward, touching her cheek with his fingers, and kissed her softly, with innocence.  But even when he pulled away she saw in his eyes something that made heat burn beneath her skin.

            "Are you hungry?" he asked, standing up and offering her his hand.

            She nodded and took it, flushing as she stood up just beside him, clothed indecently in her mind and not knowing how to feel, but knowing only that she felt… incredibly good.  Once standing she couldn't stop staring at him, remembering the pleasure of the weight of his body and the stimulating touch of his hands. 

            His eyes lingered on her too.  She trembled under his stare and half wanted to suggest removing to the bedroom, never mind breakfast, but knew she would never actually ask that.  It felt wrong…it would be wrong, but god, a part of her thought that it would also be so good.    As if seeing her thoughts in her eyes, Heero nodded and wrapped an arm about her waist and drew her against him.  He took her hand, smoothing her fingers, and stepped closer to her.  Her breaths came in little inaudible gasps as he did, her imagination spiraling out of control.

            "Relena, you're…distracting."

            Before she could move or speak he was planting kisses on her neck and collarbone.  His hands cupped her hip bones and then slid higher to lift her shirt—his shirt—raising it just enough to expose a strip of her stomach. What he did next shocked her. Heero knelt on the ground at her feet, seemingly on a whim, and kissed her stomach, his lips covering her flesh with a warm wetness that caused her whole body to shake suddenly.  Aroused, she trembled, literally shaking in the legs.

            "Oh," she gasped.  If desire had been trickling through her before it was roaring now. "Heero," she pleaded.  "Breakfast."

            "Distracting," he repeated with something like fever in his voice.  He rose up, his hands climbing up her body to grasp her waist under her shirt.  "Sorry. I don't know what I…"

            "It's okay," she told him, letting her arms encircle his neck.  He felt so solid and strong, firm and powerful.  She, in contrast, felt weak everywhere inside.  "I feel…" She didn't know how to describe how she felt.   He looked good to her in all kinds of ways, something to hold onto, to immerse herself in.  She felt so close to him.  She had never felt this close to anyone.  "I'm… okay."

            Her head swam.

            He let go of her and led her to the kitchen.  Even as she separated from him and sat down, Relena's eyes followed Heero about the room, studying the movements of his body in ways she hadn't before.  Thoughts that brought a pink tint her cheeks were nothing to the way she felt all over.  

            Heero made her pancakes that were perfect circles and she ate them as she was, dressed scantily in his clothes, her hair a mess around her head and her face oily from sleep and no shower.  She was embarrassed, and a little gratified that he didn't seem to mind.  When she voiced again that she must look a mess he only repeated what he had said before.  Her complaints resided.

            "When do you have to be at work?" he asked her when breakfast was over.

            She looked at the clock.  She ought to go home now, but well… if she didn't curl her hair, she could save a few minutes, and if she picked out what she was going to wear mentally on the car-ride over she wouldn't have to fuss about it after her shower.  Looking at Heero, she felt like she could afford a few more minutes in his embrace.

            It turned out that she still had a little time before she needed to be taken home.

            For reasons she could neither remember nor justify, they persuaded each other to spend that time in Heero's bedroom.  They didn't talk about it, or what they were going to do.  It was just suggested and accepted, but Relena knew that their minds were still focused on the same thing.  

            Relena felt like some sort of wanton tease. She didn't know how to feel about herself in this almost sexually aggressive situation.  She felt like a strange, new person.  No one had ever taken this kind of an interest in her before and the feeling of being wanted, and the memory of Heero's lips and hands, was so powerfully intoxicating that she felt she could almost justify almost any behavior to get more of it.  It took an effort to suppress a giggle and even more effort to keep her head from running away from her.  And yet, she was so happy.  Something…something had changed.

            And the things he said to her…  the way he looked at her…  She wondered, _is it possible he loves me too_?

            They just sat on the bed at first, both thinking that they would rather be laying as they had been on the couch before, yet unable to voice their desires to one another.  So Relena got up and began looking around the room, touching objects and tracing her hands over pictures.  It was a little like what Heero had done in her room, after the opera, and she wondered if he had desired her then as much as she desired him now.  She remembered the way he had sat on her bed and massaged her shoulders and then pulled her against him.  The physical contact…it was so reassuring. When Relena couldn't take it anymore she returned to Heero and sat on his lap so that she could hold him close again. She climbed on his knees and threw her arms around his neck, running her fingers languidly through his hair.

            She sat still for a moment, while Heero merely looked at her.

            And then came the statement.

            "Relena," Heero said, and a flash of consternation stole across his face.  "I want you to be my girlfriend."

            She stopped breathing, amazed and exhilarated and terribly confused.  "Really?  Oh, but, Heero.  You said it was difficult, that you weren't sure…  How can you know now?"

            "I think I can try," he said, staring past her at the wall on the other side of his bed.  "I don't know for sure what I want to come of this, but I think I can try.  I've been alone all my life, but something about you… I don't know what it is but I want to give it a chance.  So if it has to be that way with you, for us to get closer, I mean, then I think I can try.  Will you be my girlfriend?"

            She touched his face.  "I will.  I really…I really want you, Heero… in my life."

            He smiled at her one of those rare, soft-eyed smiles.

            Caught off guard, Relena laughed shakily, then stopped, staring into those eyes and feeling her body stir again.  Half in a haze, Relena babbled flirtatiously, saying things that sounded silly even to herself, about Heero's choice in décor and things about his personality that she found scattered about the room.  Heero responded by caressing her body again, his hands sliding up her shirt a little farther than they had already.  Relena quieted, enjoying it, and wondering idly how far was too far, her very strong sense of propriety warring with her desire to feel his hands everywhere.  She was already breaking rules that had been set in stone all her life, but how would she have known that this man would overwhelm her senses this much, or that her own body would crave his so desperately so fast?

            "Ten minutes," she stammered into his ear.  "I can afford ten minutes before I have to go home and get ready for work."  Sitting on his lap, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and then kissed the ear she had spoken into.  Heero made a soft sound, his hands all over her back now, under her shirt, reaching all the way up to her shoulders, and she couldn't quite find the words to restrict his movements.

            Abruptly, Heero laid back and pulled her body over his lap except one knee so that she found herself straddling him.  Clothes on, it was still provocative and she tensed, not sure what to do.   Heero closed his eyes, and she watched in fascination as he swallowed, knowing instinctively and suddenly that she was arousing him and that he wanted her to do it.  She was straddling his stomach, but out of curiosity she scooted back just enough to know where the relevant part of his body was sure to be reacting, and felt it, much to her surprise.  Again she felt weak, and strangely lustful, and wasn't sure what to do with herself, or him.

            Heero's hands had slid away from her back when he lay down, but now his fingers were exploring the waist band of her pants, toying with the buttons and pockets and the juncture where her thighs met her hips.  He slid his hands down the top of her legs and back up again as his eyes opened, watching her for cues.  She said nothing and could neither administer encouragement nor reprimand.  Everything about him felt so good…even if she didn't feel quite right about it.   She knew he felt good too.  She could tell by several indications; she just wasn't sure what to do about it.

            She really had to go.  _Ought to go._

            "Heero…"

            He sat up again, arms wrapping around her back, hands once again slipping under her shirt.  "A few more minutes," he whispered. Her shirt came up, exposing her stomach and good deal of her ribs.  Heero's head dipped down and his lips touched her stomach again.  Relena swallowed, tingling from head to toe, enjoying the sensations and terrified by the situation.

            "I… have to go now," she said, a bit of a strain in her voice.  But her hands went unconsciously to his head, rubbing his hair, touching his cheeks.   Her whole body seemed to be floating in an airless void.

            He lifted his head and smirked at her, eyes catching hers with a flash of intelligence that made her breath catch in her throat.  "It wouldn't be so hard," he said.  "If you weren't so beautiful.  If I didn't want you so much."  He dropped his gaze and refused to look her in the eye.

            She saw him suddenly as the person she was always afraid was hiding under the strength and efficiency that was his armor and protection, someone who was isolated and desperate for human contact he didn't know how to reach.  Gently, she ran a hand from his temple to his shoulder, caressing him in a way she hoped would signify as some sort of answer.

            He closed his eyes and nuzzled her, his face rubbing against hers for the personal connection.  Then he kissed her again.

            "I really have to go," she said, and was surprised to feel sadness, and regret, well up in her heart.

            He was quiet.  "Okay," he whispered, pulling away and releasing her.  "I'll drive you home."

            As Heero knelt up on the bed and stepped off, Relena was almost sorry he agreed at her insistence. 

*****

            Heero did a few errands after dropping off Relena and didn't return to his house until just before lunch.  Even after living here for so long it was still strange to have a permanent residence, but opening the same door everyday, and hanging his coat in the same closet, and opening the same refrigerator for a snack that was consistently stocked had a calming effect on his nerves. ]Ted butted his head against the inside of Heero's knees and Heero scratched him behind the ears, smiling to himself as her accepted the dog's affection.  As he put away the pancake mix that had been left out on the counter, Heero pondered how had changed since the war.

            He stared at his reflection in the microwave door.  His face looked the same as he remembered, shrouds of deep thought and mental intensity wrapped in a face that was still all determined lines and exact angles, dark hair hanging over his face to partially conceal his eyes.  His body had filled out a little bit, a little wider in the shoulders and a bit broader in the chest, but he supposed he would always be more on the lean side.  Even so, he felt older, and he felt different.  There was more hope in his heart than he had ever thought possible at fifteen.  First the gundam pilots, whose social companionship had changed him even when he fought to ignore them with all his will.  And later Mandred had taken him in, that mysterious figure from his childhood training that had become is mentor, dispersing the clouds of his past and opening a way to a future he hadn't before been able to believe in.  And now there was Relena…

            His blood stirred at the thought of her.  Exquisite torture, she was, holding her last night, thinking about her body in the darkness, her hair in his eyes, feeling the softness of her skin under her hands.   Such wonderful pain he had never before known.  The dreams he had had still haunted him, but since she didn't know, he allowed himself to fantasize.  But how much of it was fantasy, or would always be fantasy?  He thought idly about when he would see her next and wondered at the progression of their relationship.  He didn't want to push her, but it was difficult not to touch her, to feel her, to draw her in closer.  When she was near it was like his blood sang.  He could feel it throughout his entire body, a need in him that until now had been ignored and denied but was still humming loudly.  When he had her under him this morning it was like the whole world had taken on a different hue, deep reds that slashed through his vision.  Starting himself out of such thoughts with a purposeful shiver, he focused on cleaning the kitchen.

            The knock on his door was entirely unexpected.

            It couldn't be Relena.  She had to work.

            Putting the dishrag down, Heero followed Ted to the front door and looked through the peep hole.  He was surprised to see Mandred's face on the other side.  Mouth parting in surprise, he opened the door.

            "You are looking well," Mandred told him, removing a pair of gloves from his hands and tucking them into the pocket of his vest.

            Heero pulled the door open and allowed his old mentor to come inside, feeling slightly bewildered as he almost always did whenever Mandred was around.  The man was sometimes his greatest comfort, solid in his knowledge and perspective, but other times he was just confounding.  There was always something strange about him that Heero just could not quite grasp, like a hazy memory. "Is anything wrong?" Heero asked.  Not a trace of worry entered his voice.  Heero never worried much unless there was plausible reason.  Everything was negotiable in the beginning and Mandred was always open to debate.

            Mandred smiled at him and shook his head.  "No.  Have you always been so quick to jump to those kind of conclusions?  I was just in the area and I thought I would stop by to see you.  You never told me how your date with Relena went.  The subject came to my attention the other day and I thought I ought to contact you regarding the matter."

            "It went…fine," he said, a little startled that Mandred cared about such a personal matter.  "She's my… girlfriend now."  The word rolled awkwardly off his tongue still, but he could bear it, and he thought he could grow used to it, for her.

            Heero waited patiently for Mandred's reaction, shutting the door and avoiding the other man's eyes.  He did not ask himself why, but when the declaration was answered with a long moment of silence, a trace of annoyance stirred in his stomach.  Heero felt suddenly that Mandred must be angry, or disappointed in him.  Either of those reactions in his Mentor fueled a fire of fury in Heero's gut by nature.  He tried so hard to do everything perfectly the first time, especially when it was something he cared about, and that Mandred would meet this…monumental step in his social development with anything less than praise stung him.  Reasons that Mandred might disapprove flitted through Heero's head, each unsatisfactory.  There was no reason, no good reason, why Mandred shouldn't approve of Relena, or of he and Relena together.

            At length, Heero looked up.  

            "I see," Mandred said when he did.  His expression was puzzled.  There was nothing to indicate anger or resentment or any kind of negative emotion, just puzzlement, a slight tightening of the eyebrows and gloss over the eyes.  If he wasn't angry… why the silence? Heero couldn't for the life of him fathom what Mandred thinking, or why he seemed so caught off guard.  "When did this happen?" Mandred asked as he took a several strides down the hallway.

            Heero caught up and led Mandred into the dining room.  He offered tea as he had been taught to do by Mandred himself ages ago, an offer that was almost always accepted.  Heero kept talking as he set the stove to boil hot water in a teapot and steep the herbs.  "This morning," he said.  "It's still a bit strange to say," he explained in low, quiet tones, "but I decided that was what I wanted."

            "This morning?" Mandred mused.  "What did you and Relena do this morning?  Watch the sunrise?"

            Heero realized that Mandred was assuming that he had invited Relena over.  "Oh, no," Heero said.  "It wasn't a date really.  She stayed over last night.  We talked about it before I took her home…her and me, I mean."

            If Heero thought he had caught Mandred off guard before, the look on the other man's face now was as about as close to shocked as Heero had ever seen Mandred.  The man's hands were poised hovering over the table, eyes widening slightly in genuine surprise, though his mouth remained shut and the rest of his expression perfectly balanced.  When Mandred noticed Heero's answering stare, he merely shook his head, his expression clearing.  "Forgive me," he said.  "This would be considered a very strange practice in my culture.   I suppose I don't understand the custom."

            "It's not a… custom," Heero said slowly.  A disconcerted Mandred was a strange thing for Heero to face, especially when he knew he was the cause of it.  He almost felt as if he owed a kind of explanation, but Heero was not used to giving explanations for anything he did, even to Mandred.  "She just stayed over," he repeated.  "Slept here last night.  That's all.  We fell asleep and this morning I made her breakfast and took her home."

            He served Mandred tea in silence.   His mentor said nothing in reply.  His expression was the one Heero was used to seeing on him now, a sort of tranquil thoughtfulness of a man reconciling a vault of acquired knowledge to some new piece of information.  And yet, there was a crease above his forehead, as if the thing he was acquiring was something strange and unsettling.  "How did she come to stay here?" he asked as Heero poured himself a cup of tea and sat down across the table from him.

            Heero paused right before he settled into his seat, and then deliberately lowered himself and forcibly relaxed.   It was none of Mandred's business. "She came over last night and then she stayed over," Heero said.  "I don't know."

            "And then you asked her to be your girlfriend?"

            "That's right."  Heero glanced up at Mandred when the man's attention was not entirely focused on him. "Did I do something wrong?  Why does it matter?"

            Mandred studied him for a moment and took a sip of his tea.  "You're getting better at this," he murmured, and Heero knew he was talking about the tea from his tone.  "I suppose it doesn't matter, does it?"  He lifted his eyes when he said it, but if there was meant to be an insinuation, Heero didn't catch it.

            "If you have some advice to offer…" Heero began.

            "I don't think my advice would be much use to you," Mandred said.  The surety in his voice caused Heero to flinch involuntarily.  It was nothing sinister…it just made him uneasy with its certainty.  "Where I come from things are done very differently, and for more than cultural reasons.  Understanding human sexuality has always been difficult for me." He blinked, sipping his tea and then turning his head to look out the window.  "If I were to caution you in any way it would be to be careful of the girl's heart, a standard lesson."

            "I care a lot about her," Heero said, feeling safer now.  That was true.  "I'm not trying to hurt her."

            Mandred just looked at him.  "I know."   So sure.

            Heero was definitely annoyed.  "Is that all you came for?" He knew it was in the wrong tenor as soon as he closed his mouth.

            Mandred's answer wasn't sharp, but the strength behind the gentleness carried a reprimand.  "Is that a tone you should use with me?"

            Heero clamped his teeth shut.  

            "Don't glare at me like that.  I'm not trying to reprove you.  I am just concerned for your welfare.  Tell me a little more about Relena and what the two of you have been doing."

            Heero began from the beginning, from when he picked her up and took her on their first date.  He left out most of the details since then, treasuring certain moments for his heart and memory alone, like the way he felt when he held her hand or the twitch in his heart when he breathed in the scent of her hair.  He kept to facts, and kept them brief, where they went, what they talked about, venturing into some of the things she said.  Because Mandred listened with such a discerning look on his face, Heero elaborated where he felt that things had been really intimate between him and Relena, the moments when he saw himself in her and felt closest to her.  He finished with Relena's decision to stay over, and emphasized that they had—mostly—just slept. He didn't tell Mandred about this morning, or about how hot she made his blood run, how intoxicating her body was when it was close to his.  Mandred didn't need to know any of that.

            "She is very young," Mandred said at last.  "I don't think she knows much about these things."

            "Neither do I," Heero replied.  "But I care about her.  We'll figure things out together."

            "I suspect you will," Mandred said.  "But just be careful.  Women think differently than men.  Sometimes we can hurt them without trying."

            Heero thought of something biting to say, but held his tongue, wondering why he even thought of it.  Mandred was always cautioning him about certain things, always taking a conservative route.  This was no different.  Perhaps it was just because it felt so personal, or maybe it was just because anything that threatened Relena made him react with potency.

            "I don't know if it's the best idea to let her stay nights," Mandred said. "Though I will admit that I don't understand your courting customs.  That is always a burden being a foreigner.  I hope you will forgive me if I offend.  It is not my intention."

            "I like holding her," was all Heero had to stay.  Simple and true.  He crossed his arms and leaned back.  "If she wants to stay I'm not going to say no, Mandred, but I won't force her to do anything she doesn't want to do.  You don't have act like you're my father about everything.  I can handle my own affairs."

            Mandred was silent, staring at him with eyes that seemed to see his feelings and his thoughts as well as his face.  "Well," he said.  "I suppose you will do things your own way."

            "I will."

            Mandred shook his head, smiling.  "In that case, I wish you happiness, you and Relena both.  I know you like her, and care for her, and wish to protect her.  Do what will make you both happy."

            "Thank you."

            Mandred inclined his head.  "I'm sorry I have to cut my stay short.  I merely wished to say hello and ask how things with you and Relena were."

            "I know you're busy," Heero replied.  He didn't mind having company, and he liked seeing Mandred, but he was used to being alone, and he had a lot to think about.  "Your secret business, it keeps you busy."

            Mandred smiled a wry smile.  "So you remember that then?"

            "Hm.  Architecture," Heero replied.  "Isn't that what you said you do?"

            Mandred laughed and glanced at where Ted was curled up by Heero's feet.  "Hm.  Is Ted getting fat?  What are you feeding him?"

            Heero only smiled.

            When Mandred left, he went upstairs and sat at his computer, attending to his own secret businesses.  As he worked, he thought a little about what Mandred said, about Relena, and about his own happiness, realizing suddenly that that was how he felt.

A/N

A few people on ff.net have asked me who Mandred is.  He's an original character of mine from my original work and also for a fanfic I wrote a long time ago.  The first story I think up for any series I become obsessed with is usually a crossover of some kind with my own characters.  For GW I actually wrote one of these and though it was a very, very long time ago, it was something of an accomplishment for me.  I really grew to like Mandred as a character and I wanted to keep practicing with him so he appears in this story for that purpose.  He will have a small role to play, but it's not necessary that you know that much about him.  I really just needed an older person that Heero trusts and respects…none of the GW characters were suitable. Those who have read the Mandred Chronicles may get more out of his appearance, but choosing Mandred was really more to please myself.  I hope nobody is too put off.  

As always, thank you everybody for your reviews and patronage of my story!  I really appreciate every review that I receive and believe me, I read ALL of them, for every story I have ever written, no matter how long ago I wrote it.  I am grateful for each and every reader and I apologize for taking so long to get this chapter out.  I don't exactly have writer's block because I know where I am going with this story, but writing it can still be difficult, especially because I have become enamored of another anime lately (fruits basket) and switching gears is difficult for me.  At any rate, thank you thank you thank you for putting up with me.  Each review I get is priceless in its value.  Please keep making me smile! ^_^


	12. Progression

Warning:  This story is becoming pretty sexually focused because it's ABOUT a first physical relationship.  I'm trying to keep the details a little vague to keep it fixed in the "R" category, but some people disagree with what "R" means.  I take it by what I have seen in R-rated films, which can get pretty dang sexually graphic, and I think I'm still quite a bit below that.  However, if you think it crosses the line, notify me and I will be happy to change it.  I don't want to lose the story in trying to over-conform to the rules, but I _definitely_ don't want to lose the story altogether because someone complains and ff.net pulls it!  Anyway, thank you very much and please enjoy.  No, I don't own gundam wing.

Desires of the Heart

Chapter 12

By Zapenstap

            Somehow Relena began spending most every night at Heero's.  For awhile, as with the first night, he came to pick her up early in the evening to do something together, but after it got late she would simply end up spending the night.  In bed they would touch each other modestly, silently, and Relena found herself gradually relying on the strength of Heero's arms at the end of the day, of the comfort his presence offered her while they slept.  Eventually it became obvious that she _wanted to spend the night and therefore mutually more convenient for her to drive herself over so that she could get to work on time in the mornings.  Mornings dragged themselves out, last kisses and last touches always ending in a frenzy of exploring hands and hot words that buckled her knees with ever-increasing desire.  In the doorway, Heero lied to her about the time, begged her to stay, made her heady with kisses that dampened her thoughts and distorted her logic.  But as long as she remained adamant that she must go he let her go, staying within the perimeters she set, though she found her borders gradually giving way to his mere proximity._

            At work she obsessed about him, pen tapping against the desk, exploring one fantasy after the next and doing her job with her head in the clouds.  Thinking about Heero heated her blood so that she blushed visibly, but she continued dreaming about him when she could, trying to dissect his feelings for her in the silence of his actions.  She found herself wishing for more, for more phone calls, for more acts of consideration, for more conversation and for more touching.  More of everything.  She wanted more of him.

            She admitted to herself slowly that she was in love.  To think so much about someone she had known so long, to desire him with every fiber of her being… she could hardly keep her feet planted firmly on the ground, she, Relena Peacecraft, known for her solidarity, intelligence and conservatism.

            Lying beside him with his silky skin under her fingers and feeling their mutual body heat warm the sheets, she even found herself wondering how long one was supposed to be in love before it was socially acceptable to be fully sexual with someone.  The thought made her ears turn pink when she was alone.  It almost made her feel scandalous, like she was a bad person or a wanton woman, but she dismissed such thoughts as prudish scruples. She thought about sex all the time, desired it all the time, accepted that it was perfectly healthy, and yet, despite her dismissal, she couldn't convince herself that that was an appropriate step quite yet.  But how long until it was?  And were these normal thoughts?

            After work, she sometimes went home for awhile to run errands and finish her work and sometimes went straight to Heero's.  Whenever she came over she would set down her purse and coat and they would talk for awhile, touching each other in soft, promising ways, and then eat dinner, and as soon as possible they would go to bed.   She brought sleeping clothes with her now, and quickly found that the less she wore to bed, the more aggressive Heero's attention became.  She soon discarded her long sweats for high-cut shorts, t-shirts for tank tops, and watched Heero undress with eyes that could never get enough.  He wore only boxers to bed, and she didn't mind, because soon he would be leaning over her, dark hair half hiding midnight-blue eyes filled with undisguised desire as he kissed her heavily, his naked chest hovering over her body.  She couldn't help but touch him, running her hands up his chest and over his shoulders and allowing him to lie against her, to slip his legs between her legs and stroke her everywhere she would let him.  It was intoxicating, so much harder to resist than she had ever dreamed.  Eventually she would have to tell him to stop and they would separate, breathing in their own space, blood pulsing with desires that they denied.  Sometimes she felt that the look in Heero's eyes was appreciative when she set the boundaries, like it was something he couldn't do himself, but needed to do because he was really as scared as she was of going too far.

            "Heero," she whispered in the darkness one evening as he stroked her hair away from her head and planted kisses along her collarbone from his position beside her.  She turned her head, catching the light of his eyes as he looked at her.  "Do you ever think about me?"

            He regarded her for a moment in silence and then brushed hair away from her face, his fingers threading through the honey-colored strands.  "A lot," he whispered.  

            She remained looking at him, searching his eyes for the feelings she wished were easier to determine with someone like him.  He never spoke much, or told her what he was thinking, even if she talked with him for hours about her fears and uncertainties.  He listened attentively and offered good advice, but rarely did he volunteer his own personal information.  She felt like she understood, and because she did not want to press him, she allowed him his space.  But sometimes…sometimes she liked to know his thoughts.

            "I didn't know I could feel this way about anyone," he told her suddenly.   She felt his hand on her cheek, a gentle touch that spawned butterflies in her stomach as she found herself lost and helpless in his eyes.  He leaned over her, his body covering hers, his mouth on her neck.  "You make feel things I've never felt before."  Leaning closer, he whispered into her ear something she couldn't quite understand, but she shivered from the sounds, fighting to hold onto her sanity as his hands caressed her bare legs, traveling up to his hips…

            "Heero, are you seducing me?"

            She felt his smirk even though she couldn't see it.  His fingers were poised on her thighs, kneading her skin.  "Do you want me to?"

            She lay beneath him, conscious of everything, the blood pumping through her body, their mutual arousal.  She was unable to keep her hands away from him, unable to keep herself from moving and teasing him, and yet felt too hazy to formulate a clear response.  Her body ached for him, in places he hadn't touched yet.  She felt that he was more unclothed than she, that they should even it out.  She wanted…

            "Not yet," she whispered in a strained voice, and she felt him move, rolling over and sitting up a little bit away from her.  He brought up one knee, one arm hanging loosely around it as he breathed heavily in the darkness, trying to cool off.

            She sat up too, and suddenly thought it very unfair of her to tease him.  She didn't want to have sex with him—not yet—but there were other things that could alleviate the ache inside and temporarily satisfy them both…except that she didn't think she was brave enough to touch him that way, or even sure that she wanted to.  She knew she wanted to feel good, and she wanted him to feel good, but she hadn't been raised to accept anything on a partial level.  All or nothing…but was that a fair standard to impress upon someone else?

            "Are you all right?" she asked him. 

            He nodded without looking at her.

            She struggled to her knees and scooted a little closer to him.  She missed his touch already.  "What are you thinking about?"

            "It's really hard for me not to touch you more," he said quietly.  "It's hard to be close to you.  I've never been close to anyone like this before.  It scares me."

            It was perhaps the most personal thing he had ever told her, and her heart leaped to reassure him.  "That's okay," she said.  It was probably a good idea, she decided, that they have this conversation.  "I haven't either.   It's hard for me too.  And I…I do want you to touch me more.  I just…I don't want to go too far.  It's important to me that there are feelings, and I'm not sure that going too fast won't wreck that, so I want to be careful."  She hoped that was clear enough.  It was hard for her to talk specifically about what she wanted and what she was afraid of when she was most afraid of frightening him away.  If he was afraid of being close to her then she would have to be careful in her expectations, to be considerate of his feelings.  If she demanded too much he might pull back, or disappear, or any number of things she didn't want to contemplate.

            "What if the feelings grow as we get closer?" he asked her.  

            "What do you mean?"

            He was quiet for a moment, staring at the walls of his room, a faded blue in the darkness of night.   Shadows cloaked his face as she waited, letting him think.  

            "I want you," he said simply.  "And when we're together I feel things, and when I touch you they get stronger.  I want to keep feeling that way."  He reached out and touched her face, his hand cupping her cheek as his fingers entangled themselves in her hair.  She felt herself overpowered by his eyes, drawn in to their glow as he pulled her face close to his.  "Relena," he whispered.  "You're very special to me.  I want you to know that…" His eyes closed, shutting out her face, "that you can trust me…not to go too far. We won't do anything you don't want to do.  I like touching you.  I like having you here.  But I can control myself."

            She fell against him, her forehead hitting his shoulder and her arms wrapping around his neck.  "I like it too," she confessed.  "I didn't know it would be like this or feel like this.  Heero…"

            He kissed her, stealing her breath and her words, pushing her back down on the sheets and under him.   She took a deep breath when his lips left her, her mind engaging in the feel of his body against hers as she wrapped her arms around his back.  His muscles were hard, his skin soft, and she wondered what it would feel like to have her bare skin against his.  

            "Heero, it's late," she whispered before things got carried away again.  "I have to go to work tomorrow."

            She felt his lips on her ear, a seductive kiss that she hoped was not accompanied by those melting whispers where he might be saying or thinking absolutely anything at all.  "All right," he replied.  "Can I hold you?"

            A sweet warmth spread through her at the question.  Can I hold you? She didn't know hearing him ask would make her feel the way it did.  It was sometimes difficult to sleep with someone else so close, but she didn't care for now.   "Please," she said.

            She turned her back to him, rolling over and easing her head on the pillow.  His body curved around hers, melting against her in all the right places.  His arms went around her, holding her close.  She could feel heat radiating from him, could feel his breath on her neck, and discovered suddenly that now she wasn't tired at all.  

            He apparently wasn't tired either.  He began to stoke her body when it was clear she wasn't sleeping, his hand running down her sides to her stomach.  His fingers searched for any openings, sliding up her shirt to just below her breasts and then quickly retreating.  She tried to keep her breathing down, but it was quickly speeding up as he ran his hands over her legs, down to her knees and then up to where her pant legs left convenient gaps for his hands to slip into.  She was surprised when she felt his fingers graze the edge of her underwear, and even more surprised when she didn't protest.  She stayed perfectly still, afraid to encourage him and yet not wanting it to stop.  His hands ran back over the outside of her shorts to her stomach, his favorite place to waste time, and then up the sides of her body again.  This time, when he skirted over her shirt and around the edge of her breast, she shifted so that he touched her there.

            There was a pause in activity, and she held her breath as he hesitated before touching her breast again.  She swallowed as he palmed it softly, feeling the shape and testing the yield under the pressure of his hand.  Then his hands began moving again, massaging her breasts and then exploring her whole body with larger sweeps.  He played around her legs and stomach for a long time while she laid breathlessly, mind blank while he teased her with creeping movements toward the center, going under and over her clothes until the ache in her was so strong she let out a slight sound like a whimper.

            His voice was strained.  "We won't go too far," he whispered, and on the outside of her clothes his hand slid between her thigh and hip to the center, his fingers slipping between her closed legs.  Her body reacted immediately.  She stared straight ahead, surprised to find herself on the verge of panting, her whole body tensing as her muscles clenched.

            "Heero," she gasped with need, and he began to move his hand against her.

            She could only lie still for so long before she had to help.  Her hips moved on their own accord, her heartbeat and breathing increasing without her express will.  Heero's fingers were a little off the mark, but with her clothes on and his inexperience, her only real thought was to correct it quickly.  She shifted her body until he touched her in the right spot, and she let out a soft sound of pleasure before his fingers lost their place again.  Maybe he was playing with her, testing her to see how much she wanted it, or maybe he really didn't know, but as she rocked her hips against his hand she reached down to his wrist and moved him to where she wanted him to be.  He caught on and obeyed.

            "Oh," she moaned, and shut her eyes to block out all other sensations.

            It lasted only minutes, her climax coming and going swiftly, leaving her suddenly satisfied.  As the feelings faded, she had to stop Heero from touching her.  He wasn't able to see her face, and she choked on her sounds so that he had no way of knowing when it was done.  When he removed his hand she rolled over and buried her head against his chest, not wanting to think straight or move.  All the build up of the last few hours had drained out of her in those moments of physical rush, leaving only a human girl who fell asleep almost before her head settled against the pillow.

            When she awoke the next morning, Heero was already up.   She lifted her head from the pillow and glanced at the clock just to be sure that she had awoken before she asked Heero to set the alarm.  She remembered the night before immediately, and flushed with embarrassment, not really knowing how to feel.  Now that the sexual tension was gone everything looked a little different.  She hadn't intended anything like that to happen, and yet, she knew she had encouraged it so there was nothing to be upset about.  Pushing back the covers, she swung her feet off the bed and padded out of the bedroom.

            "Heero?" she called.  

            When she got no answer, she continued down the hallway to the kitchen where Heero was feeding Ted.  He looked up when he saw her come in. 

            "Good morning," she said, and flushed under his eyes.

            He didn't say anything, but his expression hosted a small smile and a glint in his eyes that made her turn two shades redder.  "Um…I have to take a shower," she said hastily, and quickly retreated.

            As she washed using the shampoos and soaps she now stored here from home, she wondered what he must think of her.  All that talk about wanting to wait and not being ready and then letting _that_ happen.  The worst part was that she didn't return the favor and had no idea how to feel about that.  Was he angry that she had just fallen asleep?  Why did she?  Did she not want to touch Heero that way?  Did she perhaps not feel that way about him after all?  She narrowed her eyes, trying to sort out her emotions and shook her head.  Every time he smiled at her she glowed.  She craved to spend even a moment in his presence.  He interested her so deeply.  And she loved to touch him, and loved him to touch her.  She had just been satisfied, and inexperienced.  She wondered, though, if this was too fast, if maybe she shouldn't have put the brakes on last night.  Maybe they should have continued the proceeding conversation a little deeper or a little longer, to make things a little clearer.  She leaned her head against the tiles, racking her brain for something she could be sure of.  There was a queasy feeling of uncertainty in her stomach, but then, she was prudish and over-conservative so there probably should be.  After all, this was her first experience, and these feelings were not something she was used to.  Of course it would stand to reason that she would feel a little anxious about everything.  She had heard that love was a scary and uncertain thing, but for some reason she had always believed that it would just feel right, and secure, and that she would just instantly know everything.  Smiling to herself, she turned off the water, toweled off and dressed for the day.  Even to the last she was idealistic and ignorant of reality.  How like her.

            She met Heero in the living room where he sat on the couch, scratching Ted behind the ears while he watched the morning news broadcast.

            "Are you hungry?" he asked her.  "I can fix you something quickly."

            "No, I'll eat at work," she said, and pushed her hair behind her ears.  "Um…" She wasn't sure what she wanted to say exactly.  

            He looked at her without expression and then stood, unwinding gracefully from the couch.  She was always amazed by the way he moved.  Adulthood and brought to him a certain flow of moment that was beautiful to behold.  Had he been holding a weapon, he would have looked dangerous.  He moved to stand in front of her and began adjusting her clothes.  He had been doing that lately, turning back the collars of her coats and adjusting her buttons.   She took it as a sign of affection, of minute care to her person, and smiled at him.  Lifting a hand, she touched his cheek and smiled.

            He stopped moving, looking into her eyes as if trying to assess her.  She couldn't read anything in his face, so carefully controlled was his expression, but after a moment he leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips.

            "Have a good day at work," he whispered.  "I'll see you tonight?"

            She nodded.

            At work, Relena found herself sitting with Olivia during lunch.  Olivia was barely an acquaintance, a lobbyist for environmental supporters, but she spoke sharply and had a saucy, opinionated personality that Relena found welcoming after hours of meetings with overly polite diplomats.

            Somehow Relena found herself sharing about her relationship with Heero.

            "So how long have you been dating this guy?" Olivia asked, running a hand through, curly, unruly hair.

            Relena sat poised with her knees and ankles together, a teacup in her hand and her lunch mostly finished on the table.  "Oh, since the first date?  About two and a half months or so, I think."  Was it really so short?  It felt much longer.

            "And you're just now sleeping with him?" Olivia asked.

            Relena blinked.  Just now?  It had seemed like a very short time to her, but she supposed different people did things differently.  "Oh, I'm not sleeping with him," she said, taking a sip of her tea.  "I just…sleep over."

            Olivia nodded.  "Are you not sure you want a serious relationship with him then?"

            Relena blinked again.  "Well… no, I think I do.  I just don't want to rush things."  She paused and turned her face toward the windows that flooded the room with light.  A view of the city stretched out under the gaze of her eyes, but she found herself looking at the clouds, and the birds that winged gracefully through a clear blue sky.  "I actually think I might be in love with him."  She flushed, feeling a little silly and unable to believe that she had said that to this stranger, but now that it was said aloud she felt it echo in her heart.  Little lights danced inside her.

            Olivia smiled at her.  "It's a nice feeling, isn't it?" she said, and then she laughed.  "I fall in love a couple of times a year, you know.  I never get tired of it.  Even when the men are jerks, as they _all have been so far.  I don't know why I keep doing it."_

            Relena's features screwed themselves into a knot.  "I don't think it's like that for me," she said, and wondered if that was rude of her to say.   She just wanted to talk about it so desperately.  Her head was full of thoughts of Heero, and because she was afraid that telling him how she felt would frighten him, she talked instead to the next available person.  "I've never felt this way about anyone before.  I think it's special."

            "But you're not sleeping with him?"

            "Well, no, not yet." She blushed.  "I'm a virgin.  So is he.  I don't want to rush things.  I want them to develop.  I would like to be in a loving relationship for my first time."

            Olivia stared at her.  "You're still a virgin?"

            She couldn't quite describe the feeling she had at this perturbing statement.  She almost felt…guilty, certainly pressured, and a touch indignant.  For some reason, she found herself raising a defense.  "Well, I've been so busy with my political life there hasn't really been time.  And I want it to be with someone special, as I said.  I've been waiting so long for the perfect time and the right person.  I want it to be meaningful.  I've always wanted to be with just one person forever, but I don't want to be too idealistic.  I know it's a failing of mine.  Even so, I want to be deeply in love at least." She laughed.  "My mother expects me to be married." 

            "Huh.  Well, it's not going to be perfect no matter how long you wait," she said.  "It can be meaningful without being perfect, though."

            Relena knew.  She could admit to pragmatics when pressed.

            "If you want my advice I think you should lose it," Olivia added.  "If this guy means so much to you and if you love each other, why not?  That's close to perfect isn't it?"

            "It hasn't been much time, though," Relena said worriedly. 

            Olivia shrugged.  "Yeah, maybe not.  I guess you could wait awhile and see how things go?"

            "That's what I was going to do.  I think I'd like to have it planned out."

            "Yeah.  That's smart.  You don't want to get accidentally pregnant or anything."

            That she would accidentally get pregnant had never crossed Relena's thoughts.  She was the straight-laced, uptown benefactress of the universe.  Accidentally pregnant wasn't something she could see happening to herself, and yet, she knew it could happen to anybody.  Perhaps she ought to take precautions.  That would be the smart thing to do.  She could visit a clinic tomorrow and get some information.  As for the act itself, she found herself musing, when was a good time?

Okay!  I know I'm pretty awful for updating so slowly when I usually get things out at least once every two weeks.  And I know some people are frustrated with all the time I've spent on meaningless details.  I have a reason for doing that and it will come up later in the story, but I've cut it back a bit for this chapter because it was getting to be a bit overkill.  As for the slow update, it happens for two reasons.  One, writing this sexually-focused story makes me a little uncomfortable and though the content is necessary and easy to write, it makes me feel weird to share it with people because I'm a little prudish myself.   Two, I've been writing Fruits Basket fanfiction (finished one multi-chapter story and have moved on to another) and that addiction doesn't look to be ending.  However, I will try to alternate!  Because I'm definitely going to finish this story.   Anyway, thank you for reading and please leave a review.  

Zapenstap

PS:  I should clear up some questions about the make-up scene.  I am a girl, a woman, not a man, and I find make-up to be really fun though I rarely wear it on a day-to-day basis.  Sometimes readers think I'm male.  I don't know why.  Perhaps my writing is really linear or logical or something?  It's not offensive.  ^_^  I just find it funny. 


	13. Exchanges

It may seem that this story is sloping gradually into a story about sex, but I swear, I'm going somewhere.   The same warning as in the previous chapter applies here.  Please let me know if you are bothered by the content.

Desires of the Heart

Chapter 13

By Zapenstap

            Lest she forget, Relena scheduled an appointment at her regular clinic to discuss birth control options as soon as she had a free moment at her desk.  The earliest she could work in an appointment with her hectic schedule was for Thursday afternoon, which would give her a couple of days to do a little research on her own and decide what she wanted to tell Heero, if anything. The appointment was precautionary, but she wasn't sure for how long, and if she decided to take birth control pills she would prefer to give herself a good month's cycle to feel comfortable with their effectiveness on her body.  Even so, when she hung up the phone a momentary shiver passed through her.  Making the phone call made her feel as if she had also made a decision to have sex, and the reality of that concept filled her with mixed emotions.  She was excited, anticipating the fulfillment of what had become an obsessive fantasy, and frightened, as she should expect given the circumstances, but also a little apprehensive, which worried her.  Perhaps it was too soon.  Did she doubt her feelings?  She was sure she loved Heero.  She felt now that she had always loved him, that her insistence that she had only cared about him before was merely an attempt to hide what she had been afraid to think was a silly crush.  Maybe it had always been more.  But did he love her?  From the way she was treated and the way he behaved she thought he must, but would he be able to say so, and if not, was that important to her?  

            Why did she have to fall in love with someone so complicated and difficult?

            _Because _you're_ complicated and difficult._

            She smiled to herself.  Perhaps that was it.

            Relena had intended to go straight to Heero's after work, anticipating his physical closeness as soon as possible, but midway through the day revealed that she would be staying late at work, perhaps very late, and the more she worked the more she feared that she wouldn't be able to see him tonight at all.   Her desk covered in unexpected paperwork, she called Heero at half-past six.

            "Heero, I'm stuck here," she said when he answered the phone, simultaneously scrawling her name on a 'sign-here' line of yet another official document.

            "I had a surprise for you," he said, and her heart lifted with such an unexpected declaration.

            "What kind of surprise?" she asked, unable to stop what sounded like an uncharacteristic girlish feeling from bubbling inside her.

            "If you can't come over I can't give it to you," Heero murmured, and she could tell he was pacing the room as he talked to her.  Relena thought up a dozen surprises Heero might have for her (some of them rather naughty) and began to go through pages of paperwork faster.  Her eyes began scanning paragraphs rather than reading them carefully.

            "Give me a hint," she pleaded.

            She could sense him smirking.  "When will you be done?  I've missed you all day."

            "I…" She looked at the clock.  He had missed her.  She remembered the night before and felt heat rise in her face.  "I might be able to make it by eleven," she said.  "But that's so late, Heero…"

            "Come over at eleven," he said. "It's not late."

            "Maybe not for you.  I have to get up at six tomorrow."

            He was quiet on the other end of the line.  She knew how much he wanted her to come over.  She knew how much she wanted to go.  "I'll be there," she whispered. 

            "I'll see you at eleven," he said quietly, but she felt somehow that he was smiling. The sensation was like a finger brush across the cheek.

            "Bye, Heero," she whispered.  All at once the compulsion came over her to tell him that she loved him, that she missed him too, but she couldn't say it.  She could merely think it his way and hope that one day, one day soon, he would return it so that she could open her whole heart to him.

            "Bye."

            Looking at the mess cluttering the room, Relena wondered with rising frustration if she would be able to make it to Heero's by midnight.

            When the phone rang again, she answered it diplomatically, hoping that more work would not be foisted upon her.

            "Relena?"

            The unexpected voice caused Relena to sit straight up in her chair, eyes flying open in surprise.  "Mom?" she said, making herself relax, clutching the phone to her ear with both hands.  "I haven't heard from you in weeks."

            "I know, dear.  That's why I'm calling you.  Are you very busy?  I usually hear from you at least once a month."

            Relena did not know what to say.  Had it been so long?  She had been busy, but not with work.  She had not mentioned Heero to her mother, at least not since she had started seeing him, and the guilt of keeping that silence weighed her down.  Her mother had heard about Heero in the past, but Relena had always evaded personal questions about him, explaining as glibly as he could that he was just "someone" or talking about him in strictly practical terms.  Still, she felt her mother had an idea as to her true feelings, even if she never made accusations.

            "Why are you calling me at work?"

            "I've tried to reach you at home in the evenings but you seem to be out frequently, unless work is keeping you busy in the office until late hours?"

              Relena smiled softly into the receiver.  "No, Mom," she said.  It was pointless to lie.  "I've been seeing someone.  I…"  She flushed.  "For two and a half months Heero and I have been together.  I'm sorry I didn't say anything.  I suppose I wasn't feeling sure about it."

            Her mother's reaction was neither over-excited nor at all disapproving, which was a relief to Relena, who wanted to be neither embarrassed nor chastised.  Mrs. Darilan had occasionally asked Relena if there were any young men in her life, to which the disappointing answer had always been difficult to explain, but now Relena felt as if she were glowing as she told her mom about the time she had spent with Heero, leaving out the more personal details, but conveying what she felt was the makings of real love, though she didn't explicitly say that.

            "Are you going to be coming home as you had planned next weekend?" Mrs. Darilan asked. 

            "Yes," Relena said, though that she had promised to come home for a few days this month had slipped her mind.

            "If Heero would like to come, he's invited too," Mrs. Darilan told her.  "I don't want to keep you from your work, though.  You'll ask him?"

            "I will," Relena promised.  "And I'll see you in a few days."

            When Mrs. Darilan had hung up, Relena sat back in her chair, amazed at herself for feeling as she did.  A part of her glowed with the possible prospect of taking Heero home to meet her mother, a small part of her worried about Heero's capability to impress her household, and a larger, surprising part of her was strangely embarrassed.  If she had sex with Heero in the future, if they became even more physically intimate than they already were, ought she to tell her mother?  Relena was not in the habit of keeping secrets from her family, and yet, she feared that news of this sort would severely disappoint her mother, and Relena did not want to deal with assuaging the ruffled affections of her aristocratic, conservative Christian family.  Perhaps she ought to wait until it was obvious to her mother that she had Heero were in love; the news would not be so shocking then.  And, of course, if she ever happened to marry Heero…

            She flushed brightly at the thought. "Don't be silly," she scolded herself in the next instant, trying to quell the excited flutter of butterfly wings in her stomach by leaning back over her paperwork.  "There's no call to jump ahead," she muttered to herself briskly.  "He won't have any ideas like that."

            Relena didn't get out of the office until fifteen minutes past eleven and even then there were a great many things she left to finish up the next morning.  She had found it difficult to concentrate on her work all day, and twice as difficult after she had talked to Heero on the phone.  What was it about him, she wondered, that made her whole world spin upside down?  Thinking about him had always made her feel strange and heady, and now he made her feel sensuous too.  She liked the feeling, even when it made her uncomfortable.  She found it so easy to imagine the act of undressing him, of touching him, of kissing him, reveling in the closeness of his body to hers.    

            Walking up to his front door was routine now.  He opened it before she knocked and she felt his hand close over her wrist, pulling her inside and into his arms before the door swung shut behind her, breathing life into her daydreams.  His lips on her neck chased any other thoughts she might have had out of her head.  She found herself with her arms around him, her fingers tucked into the waistline of his jeans, loosing herself in a floating, hazy world.  Still kissing her, he stealthily removed her coat and ran his hands up and down her bare arms and her back.  His touch was soft and possessive, sweet and sure and knowing.

            _Heero_, she breathed inwardly, wondering if he could possibly feel as full and sparkly as she did right now, like the whole world revolved around the two of them.  Pulling slightly back, he touched her hair and kissed her face tenderly.  When she looked into his eyes she wondered how she could doubt the feelings in her heart.  Something in his expression made the muscles in her legs go slack.  She touched his face, tracing her fingers along his jaw and lips.  _Why can't you talk to me about what's in your heart?_

"What?" he whispered.

            She smiled at him.  "Nothing," she replied, smoothing his shirt.  "I've had a long day.  I was just thinking how much I…" _love you, "…how much I miss you."_

            He returned her smile and then looked away, dark hair falling over his eyes.  "Come on," he said, pulling her into the kitchen by the hand.  "I have a present for you."

            She followed him into the kitchen and waited in one of the chairs at the table as he disappeared for a moment.  When he returned he was carrying a small velvet box.

            Relena's heart seemed to be lodged in her throat.  Her first reaction was fear, which surprised her, but then, if that was a ring, this was _way_ too soon… She was scared.  Was that natural?  But no, she didn't think Heero would have gotten a ring for her so suddenly, so out of the blue, without any previous mention of it.  Saying he loved her, even if that was something difficult to say, would come before a proposal… wouldn't it?  This _was_ Heero, whose actions had always spoken louder than words, and he could be impulsive, but she couldn't imagine him proposing, not yet.  She had known him for years but she had been with him for only three months, and they hadn't even been physical with one another.  She had heard that men were supposed to need a long time to commit.  Of course, if he was conscientious that she was old fashioned, or was at least raised that way, maybe he had thought to be an old-fashioned gentleman.  The thought was pleasing, but no, it couldn't be.  Surely…

            "I saw this and I just bought it for you," Heero was telling her.

            Relief flooded through her when he opened the box himself, still standing, and beckoned her to come close.  She got up slowly, closing the gap between them with a few paces.

            "Turn around," he told her.

            She turned and he gathered her hair up, brushing it over the front of her shoulders, his hand caressing her neck in the process.  She closed her eyes, always loving the feeling of his hands in her hair.  A moment later he had slipped a silver chain around her throat.   Relena looked down at the pendant resting against her skin just below her collarbone.  It was a 14-K, seven millimeter aquamarine set in silver, princess cut.  The stone was same color as her eyes.  Her breath caught in her throat as it sparkled.  It wasn't a terribly expensive piece of jewelry, but it wasn't terribly cheap either.  

            "Heero," she breathed, turning to look at him.  "It's beautiful.  You didn't have to… I wasn't expecting…  Why?"

            "I don't know," he said, and to look at his face it was the simple truth.

            Lowering her head, she touched his hand, grasping his wrist and pulling him close to her.  He stepped in on cue, leaning down to grasp her as she reached up to hold him.  She entangled her hands in his hair to kiss him softly as his arms went around her back once more.  His lips on hers were like fire.

            "I want to go to bed," Relena whispered, her hands fiddling with the collar of his shirt, not caring at the heat that suddenly suffused her face.  "I…I want to feel you close to me."

            Heero led her silently to the bedroom, but the burning in his eyes matched the flame in her heart.  Relena watched from the bed as Heero changed into his boxers, captivated by the way his body looked unclothed in the cover of darkness.  Heero was not ashamed of nakedness, nor even seemed very aware of her scrutiny, and something about his security gave her confidence.  This had been routine for awhile now, but she felt suddenly too dressed, though all she was wearing were shorts, a tank top, a bra and her underwear.   She kicked the blankets off her legs, liking the way her body looked in the glow of moonlight, the way the darkness seemed to hide her imperfections.  Her shirt had come up a little, revealing her stomach, and as Heero turned and sat on the bed, he bare skin was the first thing he went for.  He leaned over her, his proximity forcing her to lie down, his arms coming up to either side of her head to trap her underneath him.  He looked beautiful leaning over her, all the angles of his face at once mysterious and familiar.

            _I think I love you, Heero Yuy, she thought as he leaned down to kiss her, his hands now on her body. _

            In moments she could tell that keeping her shirt on was a waste of time.  His hands were underneath it and the material was soon pushed up to her shoulders so that taking it off became only logical sense.  Heero eased up on her a bit as she sat up, pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor.  Her hair hung down her bare back, the pendant Heero had given her dangling just above her bra, but Heero did not stop to admire her.  As if drawn in by a string, he kissed her collarbone, his arms caressing her naked back, and she shivered as she hugged him closer to her, delighting in the feel of his naked skin against hers.  What surprised her was that he did not stop to savor the moment.  He hardly glanced at her bra.  Halfway to what he really wanted, his hands were already working on the strap's clasp.  She had not thought she would take her bra off tonight, but before she could think more about it, the thing loosened around her and she realized it was too late to stop him from removing it.  As Heero stripped the material away, she could feel his eyes taking her in.

            "You're beautiful," he whispered, and lowered her back down to the bed.  She loved the feel of his body hovering over hers, covering hers. He kissed her throat, his hands touching every inch of her body.  His words came to her ears in breathy murmurs of approval.  Again she expected hesitance, but Heero's kisses moved from her throat to her chest automatically, and his mouth found her breast so quickly that she inhaled at the suddenness, too surprised to focus on the feeling.

            Equally automatic, her hands began exploring him, touching his back and shoulders and chest and hair.  His hands were busy too, running over her thighs, smoothing around her hips and finally reaching between her legs.  She swallowed, knowing that what happened last night would repeat in short order if she didn't do anything.  She told herself that there was nothing to be scared of, and gingerly touched him the same way in return, her hand brushing up against his crotch.  

            Her first experience of touching Heero intimately was something she would always remember, but she was distracted from it when his hand slipped under her clothes.  The feel of his fingers touching her was so surprising she didn't have time to be embarrassed, and soon she wasn't even thinking about being surprised.

            He stroked her body as he continued to stimulate her directly.  "You're so soft," he murmured.  Gradually she remembered what she was supposed to be doing and realized that he probably wanted her to touch him the same way he was touching her.  Obediently, she reached under his boxer shorts and found what she had sought, familiarizing herself with his body without any clear idea of what she was going to do.  He seemed almost frantic to move forward, the force of his kisses and caresses becoming harder and wilder.

            "I want to take off your clothes," he petitioned into her ear.  

            Her breath caught.  His hands were under all her clothes already.  It would make no difference.  She wasn't going to tell him to stop.  "Okay," she heard herself reply in a small voice.  "But Heero, I still don't…"

            "I know," he said.  

            She believed him.

            She divested herself of her clothing, not caring where the pieces went and realized belatedly that Heero had already removed his.  With his body flush against hers she could hardly think straight.  He entwined his legs with hers, rubbing his face along her chest and shoulders, feeling the silkiness of her skin.  They proceeded to touch and stroke each other as they had been, and it was easier now with the clothing barriers gone.  Heero buried his face in her shoulder, telling her what to do sometimes, trying to help and instruct and encourage her.  When she started to get it right his hand stopped touching her, but she didn't mind; it was sensory overload to think that she could cause him to forget about any task to which he had set himself.  He made sounds she had never heard from him before.  Slightly surprised, she kissed him wherever she could, thinking how much she loved him, wondering if she was doing it right, wondering how long it was supposed to take.  She knew when he came.  His whole body shuddered in release and the evidence got on her hands.  She gave him a moment to rest and then tried to communicate her want and need for him to finish her.  He obliged, turning her back to him again as he had last night, encircling her whole body with his as his hands reached around her.  Lying up against him naked was different, but the experience was the same.  She could feel him behind her, calm now that he was satisfied, concentrating on her completely until she whispered her release.  

            When it was finished she wanted to kiss him, to look into his eyes, to make promises of more to come later.  But when she turned, Heero had his eyes closed, his head resting on the pillow, looking as tired and satisfied as she had felt yesterday.  Idly, she reached up and stroked his face, wondering what he would dream about, wondering again if she had gone too far tonight.  What was he thinking?  What did he feel?  He looked beautiful asleep, like an angel.  She watched him for awhile, and then fell asleep herself, dreaming of him in a place where, when she opened her eyes, she would still see him.

            The next morning, Relena made Heero breakfast.  He avoided looking at her at first, but she merely smiled and did not question why.  Instead she coaxed him to the table with a platter of waffles and then announced her intentions for the weekend.

            "I'm going to my mothers Friday after work," she explained.

            He said nothing in reply, midnight blue eyes flickering at her.

            "I would like you to come with me," she said quietly.  "Unless you don't want to."

            "I have no objection to meeting you mother," he said in almost practical tones, "though I don't have one to introduce you to."

            She looked down at her hands, wondering if it bothered him that she had a mother and he did not.   Heero wasn't selfish like that so she doubted it.  Was he saying that if he did have a family, he would have introduced her?  She wondered how she ought to feel.  She wished she could read his thoughts.

            "Well if you're not doing anything," she began.

            "I said I'd go," he replied with an aura of nonchalance.  "You don't have to worry."

            She determined that she would not.  If Heero was not nervous, she had no reason to be either.

            "All right," she said with a conceding smile.

            Turning to her waffles, she reveled in the secret she had not shared, though she darted glances at Heero from time to time, wondering if maybe he could feel it.  What she had not mentioned was the appointment she had made for Thursday, and the reason she did not mention it was because she wanted to wait until she was sure that Heero was exactly what she wanted.  As she watched him spread his butter evenly on his waffle and then proceed to pour an exact serving onto the top, she couldn't help but smile.  It made her smile to watch him eat, polite without meaning to be, exact without seeming compulsive, and completely unaware of it.  In her heart, she felt she wouldn't mind watching him eat breakfast for the rest of her life.

            "Thank you, Heero," she told him.

Upcoming in Chapter Fourteen:  Heero meets Relena's mother, things continue to get hotter and Relena sets a special date.

A/N:

I would personally like to thank everyone who has ever reviewed this story.  I read all of your reviews.  I take note of people who return and review subsequent chapters, and I really appreciate every encouraging word anyone has ever said.  I plan to address each of you specifically when I have finished the story because your comments mean a lot to me.  If it weren't so late and if I wasn't so tired I might do it now, but alas, tomorrow is a big day because I'm going to be packing up and heading back to school.  But don't worry!  Updates will still come regularly, for Desires, my Fruits Basket Fantasy fic and anything else I'm writing.  I just wanted to give everyone a heads up because I'm not entirely sure yet what my schedule will be like.

Anyway, thank you _everybody_ for reading this story.  I was thinking the other day that it was in severe distress and needed a major overhaul (and maybe it still does) but after reading through the whole thing I decided that it wasn't that terrible.  I know it's slow-paced, but as the plot and action of this story revolves entirely around Heero and Relena's interaction and thoughts, a lot of detail is necessary.  I _am_ going somewhere with this story, but I don't want to give anything away so I will say no more.

Anyway, thank you again to everyone who has read and reviewed.  I recognize your names and I really love what you have to say, so please keep encouraging me.   Each chapter I write is different and specific and it means something to learn how readers have reacted.  Thank you very much for your input.  I mean it.   Please come back next update!

zapenstap


	14. Relena's home

And so the story continues. Please bear with my slow updates. I am writing several stories and also attending to other things. I was going to try and write the whole thing in Heero's POV but I needed to be in Relena's (again, I know. Sorry) for the time at her house. But please enjoy the chapter!

Desires of the Heart

Chapter 14

By Zapenstap

Heero sat hunched over the computer screen, shaking his head silently as he listened to Trowa talking at him through the radio receiver in his ear. It had been a long while since he had heard the other pilot's voice, and as he had only heard it a few times in his life, he wasn't terribly excited to hear it now.

"I'm checking to make sure yesterday's numbers are what we expected them to be," Trowa voice came in Heero's ear in a business-like, almost formal tone. Perhaps Trowa only had one kind, but then, other people might say the same about Heero.

Heero had already double-checked the transaction, once last night and again about an hour ago, but he checked again to be thorough. "It's a go," he said, and then, hiding his irritation, added in a slightly more conversational way, "Do they really need us for this?"

"I don't know," Trowa said. "Is it so terrible helping out once and awhile? You'll get a pay check."

Heero was silent. It didn't bother him to assist Preventor intelligence when they asked, which was rarely and generally only when they needed an outside feed, but yesterday, Thursday, he hadn't seen Relena because of this. He had gotten a call early in the evening and had to cancel plans with her because he would be working for the government that night. As everything was done by computer, he never left the house, but because his mission was still live, he was physically wired the entire time, relaying information to Trowa, who had also been called in to work on site instead of Heero due to location. Normally, a mission of this sort would have been enjoyable simply because it was a low risk profile and would have utilized the only refined skills he really had, but Heero found his attention wandering to Relena even when he was on duty. It would never have happened in the past and he took it to mean now that he was becoming more human, but he never would have expected to be so distracted by anything. He could still remember the way Relena's skin felt, not just to his fingers, but all along him, that naked, soft beautiful female body underneath his hands and his body, spread between him and the bed sheet. He could still feel the curve of her thighs against his, the slope of her hips to her flat, smooth stomach, and the soft swell of her breasts. He felt like they were getting somewhere, and having to work when he wanted to get farther was a letdown.

"Hey, Heero," Trowa said suddenly, and Heero realized that he had not been giving his full attention. It was so easy to get lost in his desires. Maybe he just didn't want to do these kinds of jobs anymore. "I heard a rumor the other day," Trowa was saying somewhat hesitantly. "About you and Relena?"

"Relena," Heero repeated, partly because he liked the way it sounded, but more because he liked what it made him remember. "I'm seeing her. Is that what you heard?"

There was a moment of surprise on the other end and then, "…yeah, that's what I heard."

"What about it?" Heero muttered, giving little to the conversation. He wanted to keep his relationship with Relena private, though he couldn't precisely have said why. It was all so new to him, and so overwhelming that it was difficult to talk about.

"I just wondered if you were ready for something like that," Trowa said. 

Upon hearing this, Heero paused uneasily, feeling strangely cold and tired, though he dismissed these feelings quickly. Sometimes he felt that the only thing between him and the vast emptiness that consumed him when he thought about the war was Relena's smiling face and the distraction of her company. It was true that he felt more stable these days, and had felt that way prior to seeing her, but the way he felt about himself when he thought about the only identity he had was like examining a blank wall. Without the war he was nothing--he wasn't even sure he was human--and even with what he learned from Mandred he still had doubts. At least, he had before her. She had changed something in him, altered his needs and perceptions. The thought of her lips and the shape of her figure under his hands alone was enough to drive almost anything else clean out of his head.

"It's been a long time," Heero answered quietly after a reflective moment. "It's been years since the war ended. It's time to move on."

"I know," Trowa said. "I'm not trying to insinuate anything. It just surprises me because… I'm not ready, I guess. But then, maybe it shouldn't surprise me. You were always better than the rest of us at a lot of things."

Heero didn't answer right away. "I'm not sure I understand you. It's not about being ready. It's about finding someone to be ready for. Maybe you should look. It might be worth it."

There was a slight, considering pause. "You might be right," Trowa said after a moment, a touch more brightly if not exactly enthusiastic. 

"It doesn't have to be serious," Heero added. "If you're not ready for that."

Trowa didn't say anything. 

"Look," Heero said. "I'm not practiced in giving advice. Are we done with this job?"

It almost sounded as if Trowa laughed, but Heero figured he must have imagined it. "You haven't changed that much. Yeah, we're done," Trowa said. "Do you have somewhere to be?"

"I'm meeting Relena this afternoon," he replied. He did not say he was going to be meeting her mother. He didn't see why Trowa would need to know that and he was tired of talking about his personal life, or anything personal for that matter. If that was what Trowa meant by his not having changed, Heero supposed it was true.

"All right. Good luck with that. I'm out."

Heero removed the earphone and set it on the desk next to his computer before shutting everything down and unwinding from his chair. Ted lifted his head and chest from the kitchen floor and looked at him expectantly and a bit forlornly. "Yeah, I'm going to be gone for a bit," Heero told the dog. "But Mandred said he would come and make sure you're okay, so don't worry about me." The dog lowered his head, resting his chin between his paws, and rolled his eyes up solemnly. Smirking, Heero turned and went upstairs to get ready. Relena would be expecting him in about an hour. 

As he showered he couldn't help thinking about her, tilting his head under the faucet as hot water soaked into his hair and poured down his shoulders and chest. Not seeing her yesterday had made him want her more, as he had increasingly for weeks. Kissing her, holding her, touching her was practically the only thing he thought about, that and imagining having sex with her. Even now he had to put his hand against the tiled wall and purposely try and think about something else, though it wasn't much good. The fantasies made him feel a little guilty, and he had decided not to pressure her, but it was difficult to keep his hands off her, to make himself slow down when she was flush up against him in bed, unclothed and silky soft to the touch. When they were sexually active in the ways she would accept, he pushed as far as she allowed and sometimes imagined the real thing, and though the results were satisfying, he still wanted her. He worried a little about performance, and he had also heard that it would hurt her, but his reservations had dwindled as he got closer to her, and now it was just a matter of restraining himself until whenever she was ready. He wondered how long it would be.

Heero got dressed quickly but nicely, opting for his best dress pants and shoes and pulling a khaki-colored cotton knit sweater over his head. He didn't attempt to do anything with his hair, but he wore a little cologne because he liked the way Relena seemed to want to snuggle close to him when he did. He didn't pack much, though he would be gone more than one day. Relena rarely visited her mother because it was a two-hour plane flight northwest. Though she had enough money for expensive travel, it was an inconvenience to book the time that would be worth the trip. They were going to stay at the Darilan residence for one night and two days, as they couldn't very well just do dinner and fly back, but they were not to visit the whole weekend because Relena didn't want to make the occasion uncomfortably long for Heero. Heero himself didn't think about being uncomfortable. He didn't consider what he was going to say to Relena's mom or what her family might expect from him. He was doing this because she asked him to.

He arrived at Relena's porch in the mid-afternoon, showered, dressed and anxious to see her. She answered the door before he knocked and held the screen open with her hip as she passed him a carrying case through the door. She was dressed in heeled, brown leather boots, fitted khaki-colored dress pants that swished about her legs, a snug blue sweater with a sloping, off the shoulder neck and brown leather gloves on her hands. Her hair was half gathered behind her head, slightly curled, and the necklace he had given her dangled just above her exposed collarbone. He couldn't stop staring at how beautiful her eyes were, sparking brighter than the crystal around her neck. She looked classy, pressed and pretty, something he definitely want to touch.

When she looked up at him through her lashes, smiling through her lip-gloss, he took an invitation and leaned in to kiss her. Her mouth was sweet as candy as she opened up to accept him, the pressure and warmth tantalizing his senses, making his blood stir. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, running his hands over her hips, re-familiarizing himself with her shape. He felt all the way down to the back of her thighs, already feeling heady and aroused, stopping only when he felt her wobble on her heels, her hands braced against his chest. When their lips separated, he continued to hold her until she looked up into his eyes, blushing, strangely serious, and brushed a finger across his face. He took her hand, releasing her about the waist, and murmured that they had a plane to catch.

*****

Relena had been watching Heero nervously since the limousine picked them up at the airport and rolled them through the gates leading to the Darilan estate. The driver let them out at the top of the driveway past the front gardens, and as he drove away, Relena took Heero's hand on the front step before the double doors leading into the foyer of a three-story mansion. She took a deep breath before lifting her head to smile at him reassuringly. 

To her surprise, Heero didn't seem overly intimidated by the affluence that surrounded him. It amazed her how easily he adapted to anything, any place or any people. It worried her a little too, because she wondered if it might be because he was so lost to himself; not knowing where he fit might make it easier to fit in anywhere. But then, he fit with her, and if that was true, then this was not exactly the same.

"You seem relaxed," she said, trying to feel out his emotions since she knew he wasn't going to talk about them.

"Yeah," he said as ambiguously as she expected, though he cast an eye about the grounds, noting the fountain in the garden and analyzing the old, elegant architecture of the house. 

"You would have been here before if you had gone to my birthday party," she told him with a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

He smirked at her.

The door opened and the butler let them into the foyer, taking their coats and telling them that their arrival would be announced to the lady of the house. Relena rubbed her hands, feeling nervous on Heero's behalf. This felt strange to her too. The housing staff was always changing, except for the gardener, who had been there forever, and with her father dead and gone and the staff always changing it was difficult for this place to feel like home to Relena anymore. She sometimes wondered if her mother, who she still loved very much, was comfortable here, if she was not lonely in such a large house and few family members. Relena's grandparents were frequent visitors, and her mother had a plethora of friends, but even so, it couldn't replace the absence of a dead husband and a very busy daughter. But Relena's mother wouldn't move. She liked the old house with its ancient family ties and would never sell it; what memories she had here were comforting to her now. 

Heero didn't seem at all perturbed. It threw her a little bit to see how easy he was still, taking in the spiral staircase, the polished wooden floors and the chandeliers with his hands in his pockets. His eyes were sharp and penetrating as always, but he didn't appear to be worried or concerned with today, and Relena realized that it was _she_ who was nervous, she who was worried about how her mother might take to Heero, or not take to him. It was suddenly very important to her that they like each other, but she knew that there was little she could do to influence it.

When the butler returned, they were shown into the drawing room where Relena's mother rose to meet them. She was precisely elegant, down-to-earth but with a classy set up of polished nails, ironed clothes, makeup you couldn't see and a welcoming smile. She extended her hands to Relena graciously, taking Relena in by the fingertips and enfolding her daughter in a welcoming embrace. Though she felt a little childish, Relena supposed it was a parent's right and accepted the hug with a smile.

"Hello, mother," she said, stepping away and extending an arm to Heero. "This is Heero Yuy." She would have said "my boyfriend" but it felt just a little too strange, as she had never taken one home before and as she and Heero never addressed one another by those terms. Mrs. Darilan did not note the absence of the title; her eyes had already welcomed him.

"Welcome, Heero," she said lightly. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he returned. He looked just a little bit more awkward now that the expectation for conversation had begun, but he stood firmly with his hand clasped behind his back. 

"Dinner will be ready momentarily," Mrs. Darilan informed both of them. "Please have a seat, Relena, Heero. I'm sure you must be tired from the trip."

Relena sat on the couch adjacent to her mother's chair and gestured for Heero to sit beside her, which he did silently. She checked to make sure that he sat up straight and rather hoped he wouldn't touch her, simply because she didn't want her mother to read into their physical proximity. Inwardly, she was dying for Heero to touch her of course, but that wouldn't do for the drawing room. Was it reasonable that she couldn't go a minute without desiring him? 

Conversation wasn't too terrible. Heero answered questions diplomatically in those deep, baritone tones of his, giving exact, efficient answers and elaborating only when Relena looked at him or prompted him for more. As none of the conversation was overly personal, he didn't do too badly. Relena couldn't read her mother's reaction very well. She seemed very accepting and approving of Heero, but maybe she was only acting as she thought she should; Mrs. Darilan knew how to entertain guests and make them feel welcome even if she didn't like them, so it was difficult to say for sure. Relena aided the conversation where she could, talking about her own affairs and manipulating the conversation in a direction where she thought they would all be comfortable.

When dinner was announced ready, Relena smiled at Heero to let him know that she was satisfied with his performance. He smiled back, but something about his smile made her blush, as if he was saying she owed him one, and knew what he wanted in payment. As she and Heero followed her mom to the dining room, Relena grasped Heero's hand. She wasn't afraid to be close to him at home. She wouldn't allow herself to be.

Heero had a little difficulty with dinner. There were a great many more dishes and courses and table rules than he might have been familiar with, but Relena was pleased to see that by watching, he was able to pick up most of them well enough not to embarrass himself. He shook his folded napkin over his lap, used the appropriate silverware and kept one hand in his lap unless he was breaking bread. Relena knew that such little matters were not terribly important, so long as his manners were polite, and Relena and her mother wouldn't have cared of course, but when two out of three people were behaving one way at the table, it was considered polite and mannerly to copy them. She had never expected Heero to behave so perfectly, and she was pleased to him doing so well. He was a guest at her mother's house and was behaving the way she would want him to as well as he could. Relena was tremendously proud of him, and the feeling so only made her love him more.

Everything seemed to be going well until Relena's mom asked Heero casually about his family.

"I don't really have one," he replied between sips of water.

There followed a moment of awkward silence in which Relena stared at her mother and her mother looked appropriately abashed. "I'm so sorry," she said after a moment. Heero didn't look upset at all by the question, but then, the news wasn't a shock to him. Relena's mom regarded him quietly from across the table and then smiled. "Relena once mentioned someone by the name of Mandred who I assumed was your parent. I apologize for misunderstanding."

"No, Mandred isn't my father," Heero told her, and didn't seem to want to say more. His eyes burned intensely with a cool, blue fire, not angry, but thinking deep, personal thoughts. 

Because Mrs. Darilan was looking uncertain how to continue, Relena cut in hurriedly. "Mandred knew Heero when he was a child, mom. He claimed his guardianship when he found him after the war, but Heero only lived with him for a few months."

"I see," Mrs. Darilan said in a more normal tone. "I suppose you could say he's a little like a parent then."

"I suppose so," Heero said, but his feelings were difficult to detect.

As soon as the conversation drifted to a less personal subject, Heero seemed to relax again. Relena watched her mother closely and felt that by the end of the dinner Heero had redeemed himself a little bit. In hindsight, she probably ought to have warned her mother to stay clear of anything having to do with Heero's childhood or his feelings about the war. They both seemed to be touchy subjects for him, even with Relena, though she wished he would open up to her about it more.

After dinner, Relena suggested a tour of the house and the grounds, since there hadn't been time before. Relena's mother was amendable to this idea, and as they removed from the dining room to allow the maids to clean up dinner, she thankfully allowed them time to themselves. She had always been one to go to bed early, sometimes as early as eight o'clock, and it was nearing that time now.

Once she was alone with Heero in her house, Relena took his hand and entwined her fingers with his. "I'm sorry," she said. "If this is difficult for you."

"It's not difficult," he said. "Relena, look up. It's not difficult. I'm fine. You worry too much."

Relena lifted her head, looking into his eyes, which seemed strangely luminous as night descended on the hilltop and moonlight flooded through the windows of her home. She lifted her arms over his shoulders and fell against him, burying her face in his neck. She felt him relax, holding her about the waist, and simply enjoyed the feel of him close to her. He was so strong, so safe, and so warm. She could feel the heat of his body against hers, and rubbed her face into his sweater, breathing in the scent of his cologne, taking in the scent of him. 

She wanted to tell him she loved him, but she bit her lip, unable to say it, though she wasn't sure why. Her hand reached around the back of his head and trailed around his neck, pulling his head closer to her in a gesture that was intimate and expressive in ways her words couldn't be. She wished she knew how she felt, why she was so shaky and unsure all the time. She wished she knew how he felt. Sometimes he was blank and distance, pulling away when she tried to get closer, but then he would come at her when she least expected it, holding and kissing her like he never wanted to let go. She loved being close to him. She wanted him to know her inside and out, to know everything about her. 

"Do you want to see my room?" she asked, pulling away. He brushed hair away from her face, trailing his fingers gently along her cheekbone. When she took his hand, he followed her.

She wasn't sure why she wanted to show him her room and the home in which she grew up at first, but as she walked down the familiar hallways of her childhood residence, she was struck by its familiarity. A set of silver candlesticks reminded her of when she was a little girl, one who used to flit around this large house in fluffy white dresses, ribbons and lace and polished shoes. She remembered how her mother used to make her polish those candlesticks before parties, teaching her how good it felt to make something sparkle and shine through your own hard work. She had loved this house growing up, had loved her parents and her sheltered, privileged life in complete ignorance of the rest of the world. And the ways that she had changed from then to now… She looked up at the man beside her and felt her pulse quicken. 

"Here," she said, opening a door.

Her old room was white satin and pink frills. The lace skirt around her four-post bed and the rose curtains on the windows, the floral designs and even the cherry wood perfume boxes on her dresser, they were all tokens of her childhood. There were books in the shelves and old diaries stored in boxes, and there were candles and photo albums and knick knacks and even her old stuffed animals were all there. She looked at Heero, watching his eyes as he glanced around the room. She could tell by his face that it didn't mean as much to him as it did to her. He might even think her very silly, but as she watched him she couldn't help wondering if one day he wouldn't want to sit in this room with her and learn about her life. She had never wanted to share it with someone so much before.

"Do you want to see the veranda and the gardens?" she asked him.

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her. Her knees buckled as his mouth pressed into hers, but his hands supported her body, and she realized that as much as she loved her home, she wanted to be alone with Heero right now, in a place where it felt safe to touch him the way she wanted to. That place was not here, not in this house where so much of her innocence had been stored up in her memories, but that did not change the sudden and sharp longing in her body. She needed him. She wanted him. She was ready to leave this old life behind if she could start a new one with him.

She heard footsteps in the hallway and realized that the house staff was still up and about, cleaning and preparing for the next day. It was still early in the evening. Her lips broke away from Heero's, her body still tingling from the contact.

"Come on," she whispered, and closed the door, leading Heero back downstairs.

The veranda overlooked the garden and the lawn lamps that lined the walkways cast an ethereal glow about the grass and threw shadows across the columns and walls of the house. The sound of Relena's heels clicking on the ground echoed throughout the open, empty space. The silver light of the moon gleamed brightly in an empty, cloudless sky. The crisp air that chilled their skin and stepped close to Heero, sliding the flat of her palms around his chest, taking her time to feel his body before she drew him close. He closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh as he leaned down, kissing her on her hair, his hands stroking her body. His hands slid up her thighs and slipped under the back of her shirt, caressing the soft skin of her back. She swallowed, luxuriating in the attention, but this was her parents' home, the place she had spent all of her childhood learning to be refined and elegant and where she was taught every conservative standard she knew. 

He leaned in to kiss her neck and whisper into her ear and she felt herself growing dizzy, wanting and needing him, her desire warring with her ethics. "We can't do this here," Relena murmured, but she tilted her neck when his mouth sought it, closing her eyes as the heat of his lips scorched her skin. 

"I missed you," he told her, and his voice was hoarse, his breathing shallow. He played with her bra strap, clearly unable to decide if he should unclasp it. Her shirt was already pushed up high, her skin bare and cold to the night air, but she still felt like she was on fire. Her head lolled on her neck and she had to rest it against his shoulder as his hands continued to explore her body. She couldn't say no. She wanted his touch so badly. She clutched at his shoulders and let out a soft moan when his fingers slipped between her legs, working her through the thin material of her clothes. Her legs brushed against his crotch and she felt him hardening. Her whole body was throbbing under his touch and she gulped in breaths of air, trying to orient herself. Suppose her mother found them?

"Wait," she gulped, and forcibly had to step away. Her whole body was shaking with need and she could tell that he was aroused simply from the way he was breathing and staring at her. The expression on his face made her want to return everything he wanted to give. But this was not the place, however much it felt like the time. "I can't," she said, and though she felt terrible, she tried to communicate her need for his respect, trying to make him understand that in this place she could not pretend. She needed polite distance. "Not here. Heero…" 

He clearly didn't understand. This was just a place to him, a house she had taken him to. He didn't know what it was like to grow up in a home like this. He didn't know that she was a debutante, formally presented to society on a balcony in an elegant dress, and that young men of respectable families had fought to escort her. He couldn't understand that the term "boyfriend" still seemed like a new word among some of the older women her mother invited to tea, that the society she came from expected courtship to marriage and young men asking her father's permission for her hand, and other such ideas. That was the impression she had had growing up anyway. The people who were her age often had boyfriends in school, sometimes secretly, and some of them were more than a little promiscuous, but Relena had always been the golden girl. Relena was the one that adults talked to at parties and banquets, the one whom everyone said had the brightest future in front of her. Everyone thought she would marry well, that she couldn't help but be snatched up by someone charming and respectable and wealthy and perfect. No one knew then, not even her, that she was going to encounter a lost and intensely desperate solider boy on the beach who would change her life forever. They didn't expect her to lose her father in a senseless dispute or predict that she would give up everything in her former life to discover whom the soldier boy was and how he had become so strong. No one could have imagined that her world perspectives would have altered so drastically, that she would choose to be a politician and use her life to make changes in the world, or that she would fall for that same soldier boy, slowly, over the course of her life. Relena loved Heero, and she wanted him now, but doing this kind of thing behind her mother's back on her home property… She just couldn't. 

Heero was waiting for her to speak, to explain why she had rejected him. Her mouth opened and then closed again. She didn't think he would understand. He hadn't seemed that interested to learn about this part of her life, the part she had sealed behind her, any more than he seemed willing to share about the past he had sealed. When they talked about those things, the talk was trite because Heero didn't want to express his emotions about such personal things to her. They were both in the present, living for now, and right now he wanted her. She couldn't tell him that he meant too much to her to feel shamed to be with him.

"It's just because this is my home," she tried to explain anyway, "but tomorrow we'll go back and…" She blushed, her whole face turning pink at the thought of what she wanted to do when the went back. Her fingers fidgeted in front of her legs. A flutter of panic overtook her when she realized what it was she was going to tell him, what she wanted him to know. He was still looking at her that same way, desiring her, and the pulse in her blood seemed to match the almost feverish glow in his dark blue eyes. "Heero, I want to talk to you about something."

"What?" he asked.

She took a deep breath. "I…I went to a clinic yesterday and I got some birth control. I'm going to start taking it as soon as my period starts."

His response was entirely like him, expression unchanging, eyes calculating. "Are you sure you want to take that? It's a drug, you know. It's not a natural substance. There might be health side effects…"

She would have laughed but she was too scared. It was not the reaction she had expected, though it was like him to worry about her safety always, even when the danger was miniscule. "Heero," she said, and her tone brought his attention to a different focus. She found herself trembling a little, shaking and sweating under his stare. "I wanted to talk about sex."

His whole demeanor seemed to change. He almost jumped when he stepped closer to her, taking her hand in his, looking down at her nails and then at her body and finally too her face. His breathing seemed to have quickened and the look in his eye was penetrating, but he didn't say anything.

"Do you want to have sex with me?" he asked in barely a whisper.

His hand touched her face, pressing her hair to her cheeks. "I wasn't sure I should ask," he said, and she was a little startled to hear the quake in his voice. "But I've wanted to for awhile. Relena…" Her name was a seductive whisper as he leaned in to the side of her head, breathing lustfully and longingly into her ear so that her neck cringed and shivers ran down her body. "I want to have sex with you." He blew softly into her ear again and then kissed her neck.

She was almost ready to take him right then and there, but she managed to turn her head, catching his lips with hers before pushing him a few inches away. "Not now," she half begged. "I'm not on anything yet and I don't want to run the risk of getting pregnant."

"I have condoms," he breathed, and nipped again at her ear, capturing her body with his hands, caressing her skin. "Not here if you don't want, but when we go back to my place..."

"No. A month," she said, though it came out less firmly than she intended with his hands massaging her shoulders. "Just in case, I want to take it for a month. Can you wait a month?"

His eyes stared at her longingly, but he nodded slowly when she didn't budge, resting his forehead on her shoulder.

"I want it to be special," she said. "I want to have it all planned out. I…" She wanted to give him time to tell her he loved her, but she couldn't say that. She couldn't pressure him. It wouldn't be the same.

"Whatever you want," he said, trailing one hand along her hip and kissing her neck softly one last time. "Are you still going to come over other nights?" He sounded so worried.

She nodded. "I couldn't go that long without seeing you. But we'll have to take it slow. I'm a little scared. I want it to be as perfect as possible."

"All right," he said. "Slow."

"And tonight we'll have to sleep in our own beds," she added. "At my mother's house… Please try to understand."

"Okay," he said immediately. "Whatever you want. I…" But he didn't say whatever it was he was going to say. Her heart beat painfully, wondering what he had meant, thinking if it was what she wanted to hear or f it was something else. 

He opened the doors for her as they went back inside, following her close and protectively on her heels, and kissed her one last time in front of her bedroom. She touched his shirt, picking at his clothes, and then closed the door, whispering good night. When she went to bed she was shaking, and wondered what she was going to say to her mother tomorrow at breakfast, how she was going to keep this secret. She wasn't sure if she could wait a month either.

I don't want to say anything about the story unless I ruin it, but I WOULD like to thank everyone for their wonderful reviews. They were absolutely AMAZING this past chapter. This story is doing so much better suddenly than it has in the past and I can not properly express my thanks. But thank you thank you thank you anyway. Please keep reviewing every chapter. It means so much to me. It really does. And thank you for reading. I'm listening to what you have to say and trying very hard not to reveal the story or I would say more. Please keep reviewing. Thank you so much! I will thank you al individually at the end of the story.


	15. Third Base

There are some potentially risqué limes scattered throughout this one. Let me know if they're not okay. I do want to remain within the guidelines! Thanks for reading!

Desires of the Heart

Chapter 15

By Zapenstap

Relena opened her eyes to the morning sunlight and the smell of breakfast as if dragged to wakefulness from the depths of the ocean. She felt heavy and sweaty and full of sleep, and as she was not usually one to sleep so deeply, she was momentarily confused. Then, remembering what she had been dreaming _about_, a full body flush crept over her until all her confusion and stiffness and heaviness was swept clean away. Instinctively, she buried her head in her pillow and wondered if it was becoming to try and recapture _that_ kind of dream.

She smiled into the linens, glad that she was alone in her thoughts. In her dream, she had Heero had been running all over the world trying to be alone, and every time they found some space together he would start to divest her of her clothing, kissing and touching her until something would interrupt them so that they had to relocate. Sometimes, while running from place to place, Heero would tell her he loved her, which only increased her passion to hurry along what they were trying to do, and a few times, she vaguely remembered him even asking her to marry him. Once they were alone, she would urge him to hurry up, telling him not to stop, telling him she really needed him now. And then he kissed her, first on the mouth, then on the stomach, and gradually he descended further and further down her body until she was almost certain he was going to take their physical relationship to a new and almost shocking level of intimacy. And, almost to her surprise, she begged him to, still telling him that she needed him, but always before anything came of it they would again be interrupted or delayed or something would happen again that would ruin the culmination of the act. After a few of these frustrating scenarios, dream-Relena decided that it might be better to work on him first, as if the order of things was the problem, but her hands couldn't seem to get his belt to come undone, and before she figured out the problem, she woke up.

She found herself in the morning to be sexually frustrated and couldn't help thinking if what she dreamed about corresponded at all with what she wanted in reality. Last night she had told Heero that in one month she would be willing to commit her body to him completely, but that left a whole month in between now and then of blank space that they would have to fill up with other things. Sleeping in his bed and all that they had been doing was fine, but as her dream specified, there were other things they could do. But would she feel right doing them? The way Heero had looked at her in her dream and the way he had seemed to want and need her so desperately sent shivers across her skin. The way _she_ had felt in the dream was even more persuasive, but just thinking about it made her feel uncomfortable, almost dirty or wanton, and she couldn't imagine how to go about fulfilling her fantasy in any constructive, respectful way. But then, maybe all of that was just the influence of this house.

Well, it wasn't a decision she had to make right now.

Sitting up, Relena swung her legs off the side of the bed and got up, her bare feet sinking softly into the plush carpet. She showered and dressed quickly, unable to stop thinking of Heero for even a moment, and when she was presentable, she walked gracefully down the stairs to where her mother was pouring herself a cup of morning tea at the breakfast table.

"Ah, there you are, Relena," she said when Relena joined her.

"Is Heero not awake yet?" Relena murmured, pouring herself a cup of tea and stirring in her usual dosage of sugar.

"Well, I haven't seen him," Mrs. Darilan replied. "But it's just as well that we can talk without him for a little while."

Relena felt immediately cold, feeling an insinuation in this statement of her mother's.

"Relena," Mrs. Darilan began, wasting no time as she buttered a slice of sweetbread. "I know you like this boy a great deal and you've known him for quite some time, but…and forgive me for asking, but you aren't sharing his bed, are you?"

Relena felt the question coming before it was asked and despite knowing it was coming, she still felt her ears heating and knew they must be as pink as her face.

"Sometimes when I've tried to reach you at home you're not there, and you've told me it's not work keeping you out late, so I can't help but wonder where you are."

Her tea tasted stale, but she smiled at her mother. "How late did you call?"

"Well, I've tried not to call past eleven, but I've called in the mornings before too."

Relena continued to smile, sipping her tea and concentrating on tasting the sugar. "I'm not sleeping with Heero, mother," she said as delicately as she could manage after a moment. She didn't dare to explain that she was planning on it or hint at what they had short of it. She couldn't believe that she was being even this dishonest. She might as well stick close to the truth for the sake of her conscience. "I have been out late with him. And I've stayed over at his house a few times, for convenience sake, but we aren't sleeping together."

She wasn't entirely sure her mother was deceived. She knew her mother's expectations of her daughter were very high, and that she had always taken Relena at her word before, and nor had Relena precisely lied to her, but how far her mother was going to believe in her daughter's absolute virtue was questionable. Mrs. Darilan was from a very respectable stock and Relena was of that same breed; she might be inclined to remain oblivious.

"He seems to be a very intense young man," Mrs. Darilan continued, and Relena was relieved that the previous line of conversation had been dropped, though this next one wasn't a great deal better. "Very striking in appearance. Startling eyes. Your father was also very intense, you know, especially in his youth. He was involved in politics when he was not much older than you are, and used to organize peaceful protests and political campaigns at his university if you can believe that. It doesn't surprise me that you favor Heero for the same reasons I did your father. I know he's not of socially high birth, but he's seems to be very courteous and well mannered, if a little awkward."

"Yes," Relena said, slightly surprised that her mother had perceived so much, and pleased that she seemed to approve.

"He's a soldier from the war, correct, the same famous gundam pilot I've heard you talk about for years?"

Relena flushed. "Yes. The same."

Her mother nodded. "Well, just don't get carried away in a fantasy that he's a knight in shining armor come to sweep you off your feet. Love takes patience and time and allowance for faults. This young man, however much you esteem him, isn't perfect."

"I know," Relena said, a little irritated by this lecture, but assuaged by her mother's care and concern for her. She knew Heero wasn't really perfect, even if she had always thought of him as some kind of lost prince. She knew his life was difficult, especially his past, and that the war was not filled with memories of his valiance for him. He had been scarcely a child and she had feared and worried and cried for him even though he didn't need or ask for it. Whatever her mother said, she did esteem him greatly, because what he had been able to do and to become was nothing short of miraculous. 

"Your father and I had known one another a long time before we came to love each other, Relena," he mother added, "and we loved each other a long time before we were able to be together. I never doubted his intentions because your father was always very clear when he knew what he wanted."

Relena smiled to herself, though she did not comment. It sounded like something Heero would do.

As if her thoughts had been a summons, he appeared suddenly, seating himself at the table as soon as he was beckoned to join. The conversation immediately switched gears, but Relena talked with only half a mind on what she was saying. She spent the rest of the time admiring Heero from where he sat by the window, the light streaming through casting a glow around his body and playing warmly on his features. His face was straight when he talked, everything about his demeanor being relaxed and intense at the same time. He did everything gracefully and with an air of exactness, shaking the salt, drinking water from a glass, cutting his food in exact proportions so that every bite was the same size and shape. Relena smiled, smothering a fond laugh. No, Heero wasn't perfect, but he sure tried to be.

After breakfast, Heero and Relena spent a good hour and a half in conversation with Relena's mother in the drawing room. Heero demonstrated commendable knowledge about political and cultural developments across the globe and had much to offer about the conditions of space now and in the past that even Mrs. Darilan didn't know. Relena caught her mother casting her glances of approval whenever Heero said something exceptionally clever and Relena's only response was to blush and feel smug. Gradually and naturally, conversation turned to the topic of the war, and suddenly Heero's fluidity of speech faltered a bit. It was clear that Mrs. Darilan's knowledge of the war, though educated and intelligent, was from the standpoint of someone who watched most of it from a distance. It had affected her profoundly with the loss of a husband and a change in relationship with her daughter, but her knowledge of the battling itself wasn't something she and Heero seemed to be able to talk about. Relena noticed Heero beginning to drift inward, noting with a concern the shadows forming under his eyes as he lowered his head and lost touch with the conversation. Glancing at the time, she suggested a walk around the grounds before their plane flight back home, to which her mother consented.

Rising from his chair, Heero followed Relena outside, away from other people and the house and back to the veranda where Relena had made her proposal the night before. Once they were alone, she took his hand, saying nothing, and was surprised when he stepped in to enfold her in an embrace. Her emotions choked up the words in her throat, energy draining out of her body as she lifted her arms around his neck and shoulders and clung to him. He didn't say anything. He merely buried his face in her hair, arms wrapped around her waist, breathing quietly.

"Heero," she whispered. "What are you thinking? How do you feel?"

He stepped back from her, looking her in the face, and brushed a hand across her cheek. "Nothing. They're just memories."

He held onto her hand and she realized suddenly that he wasn't ever going to tell her how he felt. He might never tell her about those times. They were in the past and he was trying to forget them. Compassion motivated her to touch his face, and he closed his eyes when as if her fingers had been a trigger, seeming to sway on his feet in her presence. Looking at him, the words "I love you" hovered on her lips, but she didn't say them. For some reason, her heart was easy without them being said. She knew how she felt. She wondered if he might not just feel the same. And just like that, she accepted Heero's silence. She told herself she wasn't going to force or require him to say anything to her. It didn't seem necessary anymore.

"Heero," she said softly. "I'm always going to be here. For you. If you want me to be."

He opened his eyes, revealing such a deep and unusual color that her heart caught, missing a beat because something so beautiful and full of soul was focused on her. Without a word, he leaned in and kissed her, and the world stopped turning when he did, time freezing so that she couldn't remember the contact, it seemed so brief. When he pulled away, she found herself left in longing, hands touching his chest, playing with the buttons of his shirt. He caught her hand in his, bowing his head over it and took a deep, steadying breath. "I want to get you home," he told her. She swallowed and took his hand in hers. They continued the rest of their walk around the ground mostly in silence and longing gazes.

Relena's mother greeted them when they returned to the house and they ate lunch outside on the patio. Heero smiled and held Relena's hand under the table, sipping lemonade as he listened to mother and daughter talk. After lunch they packed up their things and Relena changed her clothes. She elected to wear a skirt and sandals because of the nice weather and a sweater for the cold. When she came back downstairs with her little suitcase, she caught Heero in the foyer, eyeing her bare legs furtively, though the look in his eye was unmistakable.

Relena's mother didn't notice. She hugged Relena warmly at the doorway, wished her and Heero a safe trip, and watched them leave together. Relena wondered what she was thinking as she walked close to Heero, but was careful not to touch him. The driver opened the door and to the limousine and she slid inside, Heero following close behind her. As she glanced back at the house, it seemed her mother had already retreated back inside, and as they drove away, Relena had the strange sensation that she was leaving this place behind her.

As soon as she and Heero had settled themselves in the backseat, she realized that the shield was drawn between the passengers and the driver. Heero appeared to already have noticed and leaned over her as soon as the limousine started to roll forward, brushing her hair away from her face, grasping her head and kissing her in a different way than he had done on the veranda. His tongue entered her mouth as he pushed her down at an angle beneath him, and she focused on staying quiet as one of his hands slipped under the hem of her skirt, feeling up her bare thigh and sliding between her legs.

"I don't know if we have the time," she whispered as quietly as she could.

"It's okay," he countered in an assuring, focused tone. "I just want to touch you."

Her underwear was pushed aside and she fought down an exclamation of surprise as and one of his fingers pushed inside her. She clutched his back, her mouth biting down lightly on his shoulder and adjusted her hips to ease the invasion. He began kissing her again and as her body reeled, she realized that this venture had a purpose when a second finger joined the first and she found it suddenly and sharply painful.

"Ow," she said with a wince, though the pain was not great. He eased up a bit but didn't stop, and she didn't ask him to. She understood what was on his mind now, other than wanting to explore her. She was a virgin and she was tight and he was trying to get a feel for just how tight, trying to loosen her a bit if he could while satisfying his curiosity. He was thinking about that one month, had probably been obsessing over it since she revealed her inclination, all on top of missing her from the several days they had been apart. Though a little uncomfortable, what he was doing was still arousing her desire, perhaps because of the situation or his skill or her need. She wished there was more time to satisfy each other; she could tell from the way he was breathing how much he wanted to be satisfied. 

"Are you okay?" he asked her. It still hurt, but she was starting to get used to it and she nodded, closing her eyes. He kissed her again, hungrily plundering her mouth, and as he continued to kiss her she gradually stopped feeling any pain. How much more painful would intercourse be? If it was like this she wasn't too worried, but she suspected it would be a little more intense.

He withdrew his hand from her and murmured into her ear. "I really want you." 

"Not in the backseat of a car," she said with a little laugh, and smiled at him because she knew he didn't mean right now. He blinked heavy-lidded prussian blue eyes and with a little more seriousness she touched his face, tracing a line from his temple to his chin. "I want it to be special," she reminded him in almost a teasing tone, though she was serious and knew that they both knew it. Not meeting her eyes, he let out something like a groan and fell forward across her body so that his face was buried in her chest, almost like a child collapsing into his mother's arms. She was surprised by his closeness, but she smiled and threaded a hand through his hair, massaged his head languidly, and held him close to her. It was going to be a long plane flight, and a much longer four weeks, but as she rubbed Heero's head, she felt him relax against her and her heart beat strangely. Who would have dreamed that he could ever be so comfortable with her, so trusting as this? When had this come about?

"I know," he said after a moment, and because he was replying to her previous statement, she knew that he hadn't been that serious about his, though perhaps he had been truthful. "Are you going to come over tonight?"

"I'm going to come over," she promised, and caressed the back of his neck.

When the driver let out what he thought was a very sophisticated couple engaged only in conversation out of the backseat, Relena couldn't help but cast coy glances at Heero when he wasn't looking. During the plane ride she began to think about how things were progressing, amazed at how light and happy she felt, and how comfortable she and Heero were with each other. She wanted their night in a month to be special, but she didn't want to be afraid of any more than she had to be. And perhaps a month was a long time to wait. Maybe what she had dreamed about was what her body and mind were telling her she was ready for. Except that she was far too embarrassed to ask.

When Heero asked her if she was feeling all right, probably because she must look flushed, she wouldn't answer him.

*****

Relena came over the night after their return from her mother's as she had promised, and Heero decided to present her with a rose he had bought at the store after dropping her off at home to unpack and change. He had thought about lighting candles and setting a mood, but he discovered he didn't own any, so all he ended up doing was making dinner. She said she wanted their night together in a month to be special so he decided he would save all of his ideas for that.

Heero couldn't keep his thoughts focused on anything other than Relena. She danced circles in his head and all he thought about was catching her and doing with her things that would please them both. He no longer tried to chase such thoughts out. She wanted him also and he had never been _wanted_ before, certainly not in this fashion; the very idea made him feel strangely electrified and aggressive. So there was no longer any reason to worry. He only had to control his longings for a month, and then he could simply enjoy it, enjoy her, hopefully to both of their satisfaction. But he was willing to wait. He would do anything she asked.

When she came to his door and saw the rose, she smiled beatifically, showing all her teeth in a display that lit up her whole face, and her happiness had strange effects on him. He was rarely around people who were happy, and never had he been around anyone whom he _made_ happy. Her joy was like a soothing balm on an aching wound. It was for her smiles that he enjoyed her company so thoroughly, because her happiness made him feel something too, something good that burned deep under his skin, though he wasn't sure what to call it. 

He handed the rose to her immediately, but he didn't give her much time to admire it before he pulled her into his embrace. Her body so close to his felt wonderful. In all the years he had been alive, he hadn't realized how wonderful it could be to hold someone. He couldn't believe how easy it was so suddenly, and how much he enjoyed it, having lacked that kind of closeness for most of his life. It wasn't just her softness and the sexual way he felt about her, though that was and had been a motivation, but there was something else to it, a need for human contact and affection that overwhelmed him so surprisingly that he had no idea where it came from. But as long as he found it in her, he didn't care.

Throughout dinner they talked, but their speech faltered under the stares they directed at once another, and they ate normally, but their eyes kept darting, and every once in awhile one of them would slip in some kind of innuendo into the conversation. By the time dinner was over, he was raging to get her undressed.

After dinner he coaxed her into his bedroom without difficulty, desperate to touch her sleek skin, to see her naked and beautiful in the half-darkness of his room. He enjoyed taking her clothes off, peeling the layers away before they even laid down, aroused further by her standing unclothed before him, advancing in on him, the soft brushes of her hands on his skin sending shivers throughout his body. He ended up on the bed first, watching her crawl toward him, and had to restrain himself from grabbing her. She tried to lie down, but in a flash of curiosity, he caught her arm and forced her on top. He noted her surprise, but the sight of her was too nice a thing to give up. She straddled him and they began to explore and touch each other. Her breasts in front of his eyes were distracting, round and soft, yielding to his touch, but the things she was doing to him felt so incredible it was difficult to concentrate on much else. Her hands were like magic instruments and he allowed himself to enjoy the sensations, relaxing as well as he was able under her ministrations. He told her it was good. He had never known his body could feel this way. He would never have guessed that his sexuality would be this strong under the humanity he had buried long ago, but he was glad to have discovered it. Seeking to please her too, he repeated on her what he had begun in the car, only rubbing her in the spot he knew would drive her to a climax as well. She whimpered and he sweated and they both fell on their sides, stroking and kissing and whispering to each other in a frenzy of touches and sound until they both came.

When it was over, he kissed her shoulders, taking deep breaths in the calm following the rush. His release from the tension he had felt for three days brought him immense relief. Relena rolled onto her stomach, elbows tucked close to her, breathing into his pillow. He sat up on one arm so that he could stroke her body from her neck to the small of her back, loving how smooth and soft and beautiful she felt under his hands, amazed still that he could touch her like this. He tried to restrain his desire to feel more of her, to enter into her completely and feel her wrapped around him. What would intercourse feel like exactly? He had a rough idea, but it wasn't the same as experiencing it. He would need to study how to make her happy too. It was most important to him that she was happy.

She turned her head so that he could see her face and smiled at him. "I'm sorry for making you wait."

"It's okay," he said, surprised that he was still so winded, like he had just fought a battle or run a mile. "Whatever you want to do."

She sat up, curling her legs and pressing her hands into the mattress, her golden hair spilling over her arm and chest, tousled and messy and beautiful. He touched it gingerly, the fine strands like threads of silk caught on his fingers. Her breasts were visible in places through that wave of hair and they were fascinating even when he was no longer aroused. But it was still early in the evening. Maybe they could do this twice.

But there was a look on Relena's face now that bothered him. It had come suddenly, her smile disappearing when her eyebrows knitted and her eyes looked downward. She looked pensive, almost hurt, and he reached out to touch her gently, wondering what happened to her smile.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Did I hurt you?"

"No. I'm fine. It felt good…" She blushed and he smiled. "I just…" Her hands fell uselessly on the mattress. "Heero, do you…?" She bit her lip, not daring to meet his eye. "How do you feel about me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…" He waited while she thought, watching her expression as her eyes looked downward and then met his suddenly. "Am I special to you?"

"Yeah," he told her simply and straightly, but it was true. "You are special. Were you worried about that? Relena, what you mean to me…"

"No," she said hurriedly. "I'm sorry. It's just that I've just been having dreams. And with all that we've been doing, my fantasies keep getting more…" She blushed again.

His pulse quickened. She had fantasies about him? He leaned in to kiss her, breathing warm air onto her neck as he did so, touching her face softly so that she closed her eyes and swallowed. He wondered if her fantasies were like his, but it became irrelevant when she shivered and whispered his name so seductively that his head clouded. Whatever hesitation he might have felt vanished in the light of that appeal, because all at once it was like she was asking him to do a job, and he really wanted to accomplish the mission. 

"You have dreams about me?" he murmured, his voice dropping slightly. He kissed her shoulders and then her neck, running his hands lightly over her breasts and stomach. Her stomach rippled under his touch, a little spasm of sensitivity that brought a smile to his face. He could tell it was not all physical, that she was thinking about what she wanted him to do even if she couldn't say it. He hoped they had the same idea. Her chin was tilted up, her eyes closed, hair streaming down her back. "Lay back," he told her.

She obeyed, swallowing, and her eyes opened a little as he lay half across her body.

"Is it like this?" he whispered, and kissed her stomach. "Do I do this in your fantasy?"

"Yes," she said, and there was such a strain in her voice that it made him feel feverish. 

He brushed his hands along her thighs and they opened. "Do I do this?"

She gasped and nodded and he didn't need any more direction. Things looked different from this angle, but the allure was impossible to ignore. He didn't want to make her nervous so he just went for it. He figured it out by his own exploration and confirmed what was best by her reaction. He found it difficult to keep it up, but he became aroused again in the process, and when it was finished it was worth it. Her body shook like a leaf, tensing up like a coiled spring, and she cried his name before relaxing all at once. It sent a wave of euphoria through him and he kissed her stomach feverishly, crawling on top of her just to feel her heat, once again needing her touch. He waited for her to calm down, but after a few moments of heavy breathing, she struggled out from under him and caught his eyes, the flash of sky blue communicating her thoughts before she slipped off the bed and down to the floor. He blinked and sat up, swinging his own legs over the edge, but she caught him before he could get up, easing him where he was, and then he understood that she was going to return the favor. He couldn't have refused even if he had wanted to. He had fantasized about this too and by the time she got started he could hardly think coherently enough to warn her when he was close. He remembered saying her name more than once and telling her when he was going to come, and then he didn't care about anything for a few moments.

When his orgasm receded, he opened his eyes to find Relena beside him on the bed, kneeling next to him with her dainty feet tucked underneath her, running her hands through his hair. He heaved in a deep breath and wrapped his arms about her, toppling them both back on the bed. He kissed and clung to her and for the first time in his life he began to feel that he wasn't alone, that there were blessings in store for him in this life as well as for other people.

"Relena," he began, and then didn't know what else to say.

TBC

A/N: Well, I think this is certainly the most risque thing I've written in a long time. I try to curb it down b/c it makes me uncomfortable, but I feel I need to keep the specifics. Eesh. What a mess. Anyway, I hope it was enjoyable. If it wasn't, if it was offensive or gross or in any way "too much" for R please let me know ASAP. I don't want to lose the story on ff.net and such things can be corrected.

I will take a moment to again thank my reviewers exceedingly for their patronage of my little story. It is touching to see old names return and exciting to see new ones. If you're new, I can't help but wonder if you just began reading with the last post or if you've been reading for awhile in silence. Sometimes it's depressing to wonder how many reviews I would have if every reader reviewed every chapter (as all authors like best!) but I honestly can't complain because the feedback I have been getting is stupendous and, of course, I enjoy writing the story for itself. Anyway, thank you all very much and I really hope you return!

PS: I think I'll be summarizing the "month" so the full lemon/lime is scheduled to be in the next chapter. It will follow the same tenor as this one and all the previous chapters, so "specifics" with as few details as I can manage. Oh yeah, I'm taking suggestions on whose POV it should be in. And please let me know in advance if I need to make a different plan to not cross the no-NC17 line on fanfiction.net. Thank you!!


	16. Home Run

Desires of the Heart

Chapter 16

By Zapenstap

A month was a long time to wait and speculate. 

At eleven o'clock on a Thursday morning, Relena set aside her notes and tried to relieve her stress by cleaning her desk. Frustration caused her to slam the stapler and she fought back the urge to throw something when she banged her knee against an open drawer. If she had been someone to swear, obscenities would have issued from her mouth, but all she did was stamp her foot on the floor and bite her lip. 

Her proposal had been voted down this morning. She had thought it a brilliant proposal, revolutionary even, but maybe she hadn't spent enough time on the details of the assignment, hadn't gone on enough luncheons, paid a visit to enough senators, entertained enough lobbyists. It was reasonable that she would be disappointed that it had been voted down, but she really didn't understand why she was so emotional about it. It wasn't the first time a proposal of hers had been rejected or delayed, and it was certainly not the first obstacle she had run across during her career, but for some reason she had found herself becoming increasingly sentimental the last few weeks… about everything. And she knew if she thought about it that the heart of it had to do more with Heero than her work.

She loved him. He was growing on her, melding to her, and the fusion of her soul with his was both natural and terrifying. She wanted reassurances. She was finding she needed him emotionally in ways she had never needed _anyone_ before. She caught herself unreasonably expecting him to understand every thought in her head and wanting him to share every thought in his. She obsessed about him while she showered and dressed and worked and basically contemplated him whenever and wherever she was alone. She wasn't sure it was natural to be so concerned and inquisitive, but she knew part of it had to do with her uneasiness over their emotional and physical relationship. 

If Heero's thoughts and feelings was guarded territory, his sense of personal space around her had changed dramatically during the last month. In the beginning, and in all the days she had known him, Heero had always seemed standoffishness and self-contained, hard to approach and difficult to get close to. As their platonic relationship over the years became more comfortable there had been _moments_ of closeness where he had allowed her to be near to him, but within the past few weeks he had _never_ passed on an opportunity to hold her or cuddle with her or embrace her. At any opportune moment he would bury his head in her shoulder or wrap his arms around her waist, never speaking and usually without warning. His lap was his favorite place for her to sit, he seemed to like hugs more than kisses and that was all quite aside from the times they spent together in bed. 

She flushed at that thought, her hand poised above the drawer into which she was depositing some pens. Heero's comfort with sex wasn't at all like she would have anticipated before their relationship had changed. Where she still blushed over what they did, he offered and asked for it shamelessly. Once it was out there, no second thoughts or hesitations seemed to occur to him as it did to her. Almost every night he caressed her in bed until she yielded, touching her and whispering his desires until she responded in kind. His fingertips stirred her blood. His lips seared her skin. When she yielded she did so with pleasure, but she wasn't always comfortable about it, especially when it came down to what he wanted most often. Giving him oral sex was sometimes empowering in the way it seemed to put him completely in her control, but _thinking_ about it made her either want to smirk or hide her head in embarrassment. On the flip side, it wasn't always successful on her end, but even with the difficulty of her body being harder to please than his, she still couldn't stop desiring him. Her shame wasn't enough to stop; it just annoyed her. In truth, she wanted more. The time between now and the night they had set aside for the full sexual experience seemed to be passing both too quickly and too slowly. There was only a day left.

In the course of the month Relena had lost her fear of Heero's body and her own. She liked getting out of her clothes and stripping him out of his, and she loved the ways he warmed her up when she was cold. It was true that Heero didn't have much experience, but he wasn't young enough to be clumsy out of fear of that inexperience, if Heero had any fears, and Relena was old enough to know what she needed and brave enough to ask for it. They managed to please each other most of the time. However, she was aware that first times were not often glorious. Though she didn't relay her thoughts to Heero out of fear of pressuring him, she had no expectations. She didn't expect to even enjoy it really, but because everything else was so good, this first time where it probably wouldn't be wholly pleasurable didn't bother her. She didn't want to bother Heero with her thoughts on the matter; she didn't want to spoil it for him. She wanted to get that first time over with.

She just wished he were comfortable enough to tell her how he felt, to explain verbally what she sensed in his caresses and smiles and gestures. She wasn't sure what was making her so emotional about it, why she was so needy. Maybe it was just the way she felt about him, the growing feelings that were so scary and so wonderful and confusing as all hell that she wanted to talk them over with him. What with that and the stress she was undergoing at work in conjunction with the mere hours she had left to prepare herself for her big night with Heero… Well, she allowed herself the luxury of over-sensitivity. It _would_ ease her mind to relieve herself of the words she locked in her heart, and also to hear them returned, but she didn't need it right now at his discomfort. The one time she had almost spoken them came the morning after their return from her mother's house. She had felt happy and awkward and shy and even a little ashamed of all that had happened the day before. Perhaps sensing her distress, Heero had repeated the adventure from the night before and then relieved her fears with reassurances, insisting that he had never been happier in his life, and that he fantasized about her too. She remembered then that in _her_ fantasy Heero had told her he loved her, and even suggested marriage. Naked under the sheets, staring up at him while he caressed her back and kissed her body, she was surprised to find herself trembling. Without thinking, she had blurted out in a whisper, "Heero, I think I…." But there had been such bewilderment in his eyes and she had been so scared that she couldn't finish. _Love you_. 

Confession. Someday he would be ready for it. There was still a wildness about Heero that she was afraid to tame; she feared that he might run away if he felt shackled. She wasn't going to let her selfishness ruin all the good they had by demanding that he deal with that all of a sudden. It must be so hard for him, considering how little experience he had with any kind of relationships. She had confidence that he would tell her when he was ready. There was no need for impatience. If Heero could wait for her to be ready to commit physically--and he had been so caring and so patient--she could wait for him to be ready to commit emotionally. It was so much easier for her after all, wanting both sex and love and being afraid of neither. She could do her best to understand where he was coming from. It was only fair.

She just wished that all that reasoning didn't make her feel so fragile and sensitive. Her emotions were up and down. She sometimes felt crazy, emotionally frayed and even the tiniest little disturbances could set her off. She was always weighing and judging him. It was silly. He would laugh if he knew. She would just have to force herself to stop analyzing his behavior in order to guess at his feelings. She brushed tears from her cheeks angrily. She didn't even know what she was crying about.

The knock on her door surprised her.

"Miss Darilan?" her secretary's voice came through pleasantly. "Heero Yuy is here to speak with you. He doesn't have an appointment in my book, but…"

"Oh, it's all right," Relena said professionally, but her heart leapt inside her chest, her misgivings swallowed in sudden, unexplainable elation. "I have a bit of time. Send him in."

For some unfathomable reason, Heero in the flesh banished the Heero of her thoughts like a tropical flashflood through snow. Alone she fretted about him, but when he walked into her eyesight all her sorrows and reservations and troubled musings became as ill-conceived shadows. He looked nothing but delicious to her. She knew she was just over-thinking things. Men always complained that women were too emotional. She wasn't going to be like that. She would just have to learn to stop. Smiling at him, she rose from her seat and he shut the door behind him.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered, stepping out from around her desk and taking several long strides toward him. He caught her up at the waist almost roughly, crinkling the material of her white blouse and pulling her close, tangling his fingers in her hair. It felt so good to be in his arms, to be held tightly to his body, to feel Heero Yuy's hands gripping her so possessively. 

"I came to have lunch with you," he said. "I was thinking about you."

She knew what he was thinking about. Running the flat of her hand from his chest to his shoulder, she wrapped her hand around the back of the neck and raised herself up on her toes to kiss him on the mouth. His head lifted as their lips met, his breath exhaling into her as his hands tightened on her waist. She felt his tongue fill her mouth and kissed him back almost desperately, feeling even more possessive of him than he was of her. Without warning, violent emotions welled up in her throat from her chest and tears sprang to her eyes. She didn't know why. Choking, her kiss faltered and she fell from contact, dropping back on her heels. Mortified, she buried her face into his chest and wept, hating herself for it.

His arms went around her instantly and she felt him shift his balance to envelop her, sensing his surprise with nothing but annoyance at herself. "What's wrong?" he asked, thoroughly astonished.

She shook her head mutely, stilling her tears and swallowing her hiccups. She didn't know. All these fragmented feelings were stupid. They were driving her crazy. Idly, she toyed with the buttons on his shirt, relaxing under the pressure of his hands around her shoulders, taking comfort in the warmth and solidarity of his body. 

"Relena?" His voice compelled her to speak.

"It's nothing," she said softly, broken by that tone in his voice, feeling so stupid and emotional, worrying about nothing like a hysterical woman. She didn't want to be that way. "I'm just stressed out. My proposal was rejected this morning. I just… I have a lot of thoughts in my head. I'm a little emotional. I'm sorry. I'm glad to see you."

He kissed the top of her head, his lips pressing into her hair. "I don't like to see you cry," he said. "Especially not now." His hands tightened on her waist and then slipped down to her rear, pulling her pelvis against his.

She swallowed, knowing what he meant. Pulling free, she stepped back a little and looked up at him, knowing that they were both thinking the same thing. 'Not now' because of what was soon to happen, what they both wanted to happen. She smiled, feeling a rush of heat flow through her body, and continued to play with his buttons, but in a different way. He touched her hair longingly, running his hand through it and watching it fall away like strands of silk slipping through his fingers. She closed her eyes, loving how it felt when he played with her hair, loving his presence, his quiet, his countenance… loving everything about him. "It's not that," she reassured him.

"You drive me crazy," he whispered. His hands caressed her shoulders and squeezed down her arms.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" she asked, knowing it was a question that would entice him. 

"Hmm." His arms snaked around her hips, pulling her off her feet so that she half-crashed into him. His body was muscled and toned for all his slender build, and the ways he had filled out were good ones. His body wasn't perfect, but he was irresistible in spite of any flaws, and she felt the heat in her begin to pulsate as she dreamed of what it would be like to have him fully and completely. His hands explored her from her shoulders to her hips and she had to fight to keep from telling him to keep going. He avoided his favorite places, but she could tell from the catch in his breathing that it was difficult. Tomorrow they wouldn't stop. She didn't want to stop now.

He leaned forward and breathed hot air into her ear. "Are _you_ ready," he whispered more with his breath than his vocal chords. She swallowed and shivered and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissing his neck and tantalizing him by pressing her body as close to his as she could get. He closed his eyes, rubbing against her, breathing into her ear, and murmured half-formed phrases about his desires and wants and needs. 

"Tomorrow," she insisted, but she kissed his neck again, running her fingertips along his skin. The atmosphere in the room was getting uncomfortably hot.

The month they had waited had seemed like an eternity. The birth control she was on resulted in no noteworthy side effects and her period had ended yesterday. During the last four weeks she had been busy with work, but she had seen Heero every moment she could, and spent the night almost every night. Sometimes they did a lot sexually, but not always. There were many nights when they were just tired and talked in the darkness, or held each other, though Relena found it difficult to actually fall asleep in Heero's arms. She had never imagined that would be a problem before she had tried it, but she was just not used to sleeping so close to someone. Early evening and mornings were still good times for cuddling, and she often awoke to Heero grabbing her or caressing her and a few times that had led to more aggressive sexual activity. They didn't always do a lot sexually, but when they did it was impossible to say no to anything. Once they were naked, aroused and in each other's arms it was best to get each other to climax as quickly as possible. The anticipation for more was driving them both to continually seek out the other in bed. They didn't go out and do as much together as they used to, but she didn't really mind. She just wanted to be near him. 

"Tomorrow," she repeated, and kissed him on the mouth with a chaste, fluttery brush of her lips against his. 

"I got everything ready for what you want," he told her, and gently touched her cheek with the back of his hand in such a loving gesture that she closed her eyes and smiled.

She had asked for soft lighting, firelight or candles, a nice dinner to alleviate the tension and a clean room. She wanted it to be special, but she didn't need a hotel or presents or wine or anything except his undivided attention and respect. Though she didn't say so, she didn't expect him to last long or demonstrate competent knowledge. She just wanted him to take his time if he could and not to worry about pleasing her as much as making her comfortable. She wanted low pressure and genuine concern and she wanted him to enjoy himself. 

"Eight o'clock," she said, lowering her chin and playing again with his buttons. "Tomorrow I'll come over at eight."

"Not tonight?"

She shook her head. "I think a night of not seeing you will be good. And it will give me time to get all my work done. I don't want to have that to worry about tomorrow."

He nodded and kissed her again. "Lunch?" he suggested, shifting gears to the time he wanted to spend with her today.

She agreed. Knowing what was coming tomorrow, he did not need to pressure her now. And because she had planned it, she really didn't feel as nervous as she thought she might. She just wanted to get it over with. She wished she wasn't feeling like dealing with Heero's emotions was a like walk across eggshells, but at least by tomorrow night her anxieties about intercourse would be over. She took a deep breath at the thought and tried to quell the butterflies in her stomach. It wasn't nerves. It was just…the anticipation of taking things to the next level, of no longer being a virgin. 

*****

Heero was on fire with anticipation and shaking with nerves. He calmed himself with routine distractions and tried not to spend all his hours fantasizing about Relena's naked body under his hands. But it was with swelling desire that at seven-thirty on Friday night he lit a fire in the hearth and candles on his shelves. He had aired out the room and changed the sheets, vacuumed and dusted and then closed the windows to trap the heat in so that she wouldn't be cold, as he expected both of them to be naked for as long as possible and she got cold so easily. If it became hot--and he hoped it would--he could open the window then.

He shivered, his stomach fluttering, blood coursing through his veins, tense and excited even before she arrived. She had not mentioned it, but he bought roses for his room, partly for the atmosphere and partly for the scent. He would let her take them home with her tomorrow. She said she wanted it to be special and he made an effort to give her whatever she asked for. He wasn't sure how well he was going to do, so the roses and the room and lightning were easy points it was best to take advantage of. 

He put Ted outside, afraid the dog might bark or whine outside the door, and then spent several anxious minutes waiting and dreaming and trying to keep his arousal down to a minimum. Dinner was in the oven. The table was set. He'd taken a shower. The lightning was soft and fluid. Everything was exactly as she wanted. All he needed now was her.

When he heard her car door slam shut on the street, he bounded to his feet and answered the door before she finished walking up the stairs. She was wrapped in a long wool coat and a colorful scarf when he let her inside, her pale cheeks flushed pink with cold and her hair tucked under her coat where he couldn't see it. Welcoming her in, he shut the door lightly, took her coat from her shoulders, gathered her purse, her gloves and her scarf and tucked all of it away neatly in the closet. Underneath her coat she wore a simple skirt and a long-sleeved shirt that was cut to be elegant and modest but was tight across every inch of her upper body. He stared at her breasts and the contours of her stomach and the shape of her arms circumspectly. Her legs were smooth and slender, shining slightly and looking longer from the strappy heels that framed her feet. Sweet smells intoxicated his senses from her lotion and sprays and perfumes; it made him want to taste her skin for the sheer contrast of it.

"Hi," he said softly and darkly, not allowing a hint of his desperation to out him in his tone. She smiled at him, her eyes bright and clear and luminous, like a blue-sky morning after snow and her smile had a strange effect on him. It was like music. He leaned in to kiss her lips, tasting the candy lip-gloss that made them shine, and held her mouth to his for several seconds, jolted by the energy that coursed through him from the contact. He wanted her now, but he forced himself to relax.

He served her dinner by candlelight, having bought his first pair of candlesticks and white candles just for the occasion. His dishes were not nice china and he didn't have a tablecloth or even matching silverware, but he had spent a lot of time cooking dinner--something he was finding enjoyable--and the presentation was pleasing to the eye. He fed Relena french bread with butter, baby red potatoes and lightly salted steak with steamed vegetables and sparkling cider (she didn't want alcohol). He asked about her day and tried to relax into conversation, but instead found himself complimenting her and staring at her and trying to control the rising heat in his blood while she talked about provincial matters than passed him by. 

After dinner they cleared the table and Relena abruptly excused herself to use the restroom. While she was gone, he raced to brush his teeth over a different sink and then hurried to meet her when he heard her moving about. They stared at each other for a moment in silence. He knew his face was red, though not from shame, and she was blushing too. Swallowing, he stepped close to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in the sweet scent of her hair. He kissed her throat, immediately aroused, and closed his eyes. 

"I want you," she said, and he could hardly contain himself.

"Bedroom?" he asked in a hushed whisper.

She nodded and he led her to the bedroom, shutting the door softly while she exclaimed softly over the candles and the roses. He barely let her finish, stepping in close and stripping her out of her clothes, watched without breathing as her shirt came over her head, revealing the length of her bare body inch by torturous inch. The shadows and candle flame did striking things to her body, and the sight of her curves and straight lines flickering in and out of the light did other things to his. He ran his hands along her ribs and around her stomach before she had flung her shirt away, and then hooked his fingers in the waistband of her skirt in order to slide it down over her hips. Underneath her clothes she was wearing lingerie, and his eyes ate up the sight of her as her breasts heaved under a bra of red satin and lace that was admittedly striking. But after a glance all he wanted was to take it off. His hands massaged her breasts, digging under and around the lace, and then slid behind her back to unclasp the thing and get rid of it. He planted kisses on her collarbone, holding and caressing her, murmuring how soft and smooth she was before taking off her underwear. She didn't object, stepping out of them obediently, and she stood before him naked and waiting while he hurriedly went to work on unbuttoning his own clothes and freeing himself from their confinement. He felt like a furnace and fought to contain himself.

She escaped his embrace long enough to sit down on the bed, slipping under the sheets, and he chased her as soon as he was undressed, wrapping his arms about her shoulders and pulling her back to him, turning her around. His legs tangled with hers as he lined himself up against to her, rubbing her naked body everywhere he could touch. From neck to toes, her bare skin was like silk. His lips touched her breasts and his hands caressed her hips, running along her thighs and then between her legs. She made a soft sound like a plea as he slipped his hand up. She was breathing heavily and he felt her hands on his back, urging him to get closer, insisting for him to lie on top of her. He obliged, driven by the roaring fire that raged through his body. She gasped and called to him in a rising crescendo as he worked his fingers into her, rocking her pelvis against him until eventually she came.

"Are you ready?" he whispered as she settled down. His blood was still hot. He hadn't allowed her to touch him for fear of not being able to make it through. He wanted to be inside her. He had been anticipating it for so long. He didn't think he'd last long enough at this rate. "Relena." It was a desperate petition. He kissed her ear and bit lightly at the lobe, allowing hot breath to stimulate her as he shifted his position. He was hard against her inner thigh, fighting to hold back.

"We're really going to do it," she said, and he noted a slight tremble in her voice. "Go slow."

Bending his head over her shoulder, he kissed her skin and began to push slowly in. He really had to push. Her body was almost cramped, clutched around him so tightly that he couldn't have gone much faster anyway. It felt amazing. It was difficult and he pushed in a little deeper, gasping with the effort. 

"Are you…?" she whispered.

"Almost," he said hoarsely. He was about halfway.

"Just do it." It was a breathy but certain request.

Using his hands, he lifted her hips a little to ease his entry and thrust forward. He heard her gasp, followed by a quickly stifled whimper, her body going rigid and tense around him, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly. He knew he had hurt her, but he also knew it was not much. She relaxed, still holding him, and he groaned, moving in her automatically, breathing hard, moaning because it felt so good. She was quiet, but it was difficult to think about anything. The pressure was so intense a few strokes were all he could manage before the pleasure built to a degree that he could not contain his orgasm. He didn't try. He gasped, letting himself go. He came and pulled out of her, collapsing over her body, surprised at how quickly it was over. A physical euphoria washed through him as he pulled himself up on his elbows and looked down at the girl whose bodily embrace enfolded him in his exhaustion. 

Her eyes were like opals or pearls, wet with unshed tears and glimmering with emotions he did not try to define. She had been watching and listening to him. He knew that much.

"It wasn't the same for you," he said, and it was both a statement and a realization. "Are you hurt?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I think this takes practice. I'm okay."

He kissed her, raising his chest off hers to hover over her face, trapping her head with his hands. "We'll try again. I'll get it perfect," he promised. He meant it. 

She laughed then, a light sound that startled him at first and then delighted him on some level he could not identify. "I'm not a virgin anymore," she said softly, but though he was relieved that she seemed happy, he didn't understand why it was funny.


	17. Reaction Aggression

Welcome back! Um… This chapter includes a lemon. And I upped the scale a little bit, so though it is not crass, it is a little more detailed. You'll know when it's coming so you may certainly skip it if sexual situations are not your thing. However, if anyone has a problem with the sexual content of the story in regard to ff.net's rules, please let me know personally before you hound me out. I will gladly revise the story to suit anyone who is uncomfortable with the content. This story is not supposed to be about sex. That is just part of the story (and an important part). I want to keep what is important, but I don't want to lose the story. Anyway, thank you very much for reading. Please leave a review!

Desires of the Heart

Chapter 17

By Zapenstap

Relena slept fitfully and woke up in the predawn. The night outside the windows above Heero's bed was only just starting to lessen, a royal blue replacing the black pitch of earlier hours. Beside her, Heero was sleeping soundly, his hair limp over his eyes and the sheet pulled down to his waist. That she was allowed to watch someone like Heero sleep suggested an intimacy that warmed her marrow. He was letting her see him vulnerable, to be with him vulnerable.

She sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees, turning to look at her sleeping lover. She had the crazy urge to touch his face, to trace the lines of care around his eyes and jaw, to smooth out the sharp angles and tense muscles. He often dreamed intensely, starting a little sometimes, his features tightening in response to whatever he was seeing in his mind, but tonight he lay as relaxed and restful as a baby. He looked so beautiful and so tranquil a part of her wanted to wake him up just so she could touch him and kiss him and begin again what had ended so quickly last night.

She reflected on it soberly. The expectation had been building up in her like a wave cresting a beach, but the actual performance had left her feeling bewildered and cheated. It had all felt too focused and horribly rushed. The pleasurable climax that he worked out of her as a preamble hadn't been enough to satisfy her on an emotional level during the real thing. Even though she had been playing down her expectations, part of her had wanted something more, something memorable and stimulating and beautiful. What she had got instead was discomfort followed by pain and then a quick finish. She had laughed when it was done. All that build up of stress for something that had been over so fast. The quickness had almost been merciful. The pain hadn't been that terrible really, but she realized right away that she was not going to be able to orgasm. Her frame of mind had just been all wrong. The pain had jolted her out of her arousal and with everything being so new, she simply wasn't able to fantasize and get into it again. There hadn't been time anyway. The mechanics just got in the way and at that point she had just wanted it over. She was so relieved that it ended quickly.

She wasn't actually displeased, though. She had had sex with Heero and gotten that infamous first time out of the way. She was no longer a virgin. Besides, she believed it would get better.

Realizing that she wasn't tired at all, Relena wondered what she should do. Heero was asleep and she didn't want to wake him, but it was difficult to lie in the dark with him and not be able to do anything except think. Softly, she tossed back the blankets and got back out of bed. Her body was so flushed that she didn't feel the cold at all. She walked out of the room naked and was surprised and bemused at how awkward she felt just moving around after sex. She remembered what it was like to have Heero inside her. Her whole body tingled with the recollection. 

For some reason, being naked in Heero's empty house after having sex with him didn't embarrass her at all. She turned on the kitchen lights and took some delight in walking about naked in a lit room. She ate some bread and drank a glass of water and then she removed to the couch. She pulled a pillow up on her lap and thought about the work folio due at work on Monday, reflecting that other than that she had nothing really to do this weekend except get used to the idea of sleeping with Heero. How regularly would they have sex? Would it be a lot at first and then become less as the novelty wore off? Would they ever move out of the bedroom? She never wanted to be in a relationship where sex just stopped because the people involved were unimaginative, inhibited, bored of each other, too busy or just not able to please. But how was that to be avoided? Was being with one person your whole life simply too tedious a thing to be realistically done? She glanced back at the bedroom where Heero lay sleeping and felt a soft pang in her heart. She couldn't imagine being with anyone other than Heero. She wanted to share herself with him her whole life. Surely feelings like that, as simple and natural as anything, couldn't be mistaken. She was willing to put in the work that must go into a healthy relationship, to make sacrifices and compromises when it was necessary and to try to please him; she would be as perfect as she could be.

"Relena?"

She looked up in surprise. Heero stood naked in the hallway, leaning with his elbow against the wall above his head. She flushed, staring at him, feeling suddenly conscious of her own body, and hugged the pillow to her lap. Heero was watching her with sleepy eyes, but he was waking up even as she watched, and looked puzzled more than anything.

"I didn't want to wake you," she said softly. "I just wasn't tired."

He cast his gaze about the room and she felt a sudden upsurge of emotion for him. He looked troubled and she realized that maybe he just hadn't expected to wake up alone. What if for a few moments he had thought that she had left him? She stood up swiftly, leaving the pillow where it would lie and entreated him anxiously with her eyes. He looked at her for a moment, his eyes wandering over her nakedness. "Come back to bed," he said simply.

She came to him as he requested, following him into the room and staying by his side while he closed the door. He looked a little out of it still, straightening in the blue-dark of night's shadows, but what she noticed most were the muscles in his arms and back, and how smooth his skin looked, and blushed with the thoughts that crept into her head. His hair fell over his eyes as he turned slightly, one of his hands reaching out to touch her gently and secure her about the waist. His fingers splayed over her hip, caressing the softness of her skin in the darkness. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered, searching for his eyes. They were closed, but she knew he heard her. 

"How do you feel?" he whispered back. She could tell he wasn't fully aroused, but there was something about his body language that suggested interest. His hands roamed her body with thorough touches that almost frightened her so soon after their first time. She still hadn't fully digested everything and her body remembered too keenly his last invasion. But then, she hadn't been fulfilled, and as she thought about it, the soreness became more of an ache. 

Shadows swallowed them both as he stepped into her, and his hands slid down to her rear, applying pressure from behind and underneath to lift her up toward him, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that was breathy and warm and caused her to shiver. She tilted her head away from the kiss, breathing in cool air to her body. "Heero?" His lips touched her neck.

She brought her head back down and watched his eyes open, catching the intensity in a stare that was almost like a challenge. He wanted to redeem himself and satiate her. The flat of his hands ran up the outside of her thighs, applying just enough pressure to make her stand up on her toes. He caught her about the waist and pulled her against him, running his hands along her back while he kissed her shoulders and held her close. She hung onto his shoulders with a contented smile, feeling his naked body sculpt to hers, feeling his erection harden against her thigh. She liked the way he was set up, the masculine broadness, the steadiness, the strength and sense of safety. Touching his jaw, she turned his face to her and kissed him slowly, languidly, taking her time, and he returned her pace, torturing her with long, deep kisses that scored her inside and touches that seemed to press into her soul.

She caught his eyes as he drew his head slowly away, the flash of deep blue soaking up the darkness. "I feel good," she told him, and meant more than that she was just all right. She leaned in to kiss him, and the warm wetness of his lips was no longer enough. "Heero…"

His hand brushed her inner thigh and slipped abruptly between her legs. Surprised, she hung onto his shoulders as he pushed two fingers into her. It didn't hurt anymore. There was a touch of soreness when he tested her, but it wasn't painful; it felt good. Something inside her clenched, winding tight like a coiled spring. He kissed her throat as he moved his hand rhythmically, and her hips responded in kind, pushing his palm up to where it stimulated her clitoris. She bit his shoulder, muffling a few escaping sounds as she rocked her body into his hand. Relena could feel his other hand on her back, caressing her softly and lovingly and had the sense that he was looking down at her even if she couldn't bring herself to pull away from him long enough to see. She felt his erection against her stomach, a hardness that grew when her body rubbed against it. His heartbeat had sped up too and his breathing was getting more labored, but not as fast as hers was getting. He was working her and she knew that if he kept it up she would climax too soon.

Heero seemed to know it too. His hand left her and he steadied her at the hips. She gulped in air, opening her eyes slowly, and when she saw his member straining for her, took him in her hand without his direction. Heero didn't say anything or make any sounds, but she heard him swallow and felt him tense and knew what he wanted. Moving her hands on his hips, she lowered herself slowly to her knees and wondered what it was like to have her do this to him. When she took him into her mouth, she was pleased to see the muscles in his face become tight and feel his hand touch her hair, sometimes digging his fingers lightly into her scalp. His mouth parted as he gulped in air and at last she worked a moan out of him. That's when she stopped, rising to stand in front of him while he slowly opened lust-filled eyes to find her waiting there.

"I want…" she began.

He seized her by the wrist, his eyes shining with something carnal and desperate as he pulled her into his embrace. "I know," he said, his voice low and breathy in her ear, "I can do it." He backed her up to the bed and she sat down softly, half propped against the headboard. She watched Heero as he leaned over her, swallowing anxiously as he parted her knees so he could slip between them. She was aching inside, feeling her blood beat loud and rhythmically through her arteries. But Heero took his time. He started with her stomach, kissing her navel and rubbing her thighs with his hands. She kept anticipating that he would dip lower, but he avoided it, instead crawling up her body and kissing her into submission until she began to sink down from the headboard to the covers. Her head hit the pillow and he hovered completely over her, propped up on his elbows, his muscles rippling in her eyesight. She began to feel overheated, her anticipation climbing. His erection pressed into her stomach. 

She touched his hips, applying pressure to indicate that she wanted him to slide down, to fill her and satisfy her the way she needed to be satisfied. He ignored her urgings. His hands gathered her hair, brushed against her neck, caressed her breasts. His pace was still tortuously slow, but the rhythm was deep and intense, like the power of ocean waves crashing into her over and over. She cried out his name, moaning that it was okay, pleading for him to take her.

He kissed her lips hungrily, cutting off her cries, and shifted his body over her until she felt him push in. It didn't hurt and she wanted it. His control seemed to break and he gasped, stopping inside her, trying to adjust. Her hands stroked his chest and arms, encouraging him to continue, telling him how close she was already. He began again at her urgings, his expression tightening as he fought to stay long enough to please her. She felt it build quickly and spread her legs wider, grabbing his hips and pushing him in. She told him she was close, whimpering into his ear, begging him to keep going. She felt her body go rigid and his shoulders tense. She cried out softly, her strangled noises drowned out of her conscious understanding as he sped up suddenly, driving himself to an orgasm. She came right before he did, the world bursting from inside, and was barely aware of him shaking over her, clearly spent. Even after he finished he continued to shake, breathing raggedly, trembling with exertion.

Relena pulled Heero to her, holding him close as he gasped for air and settled into her embrace, his head on her breasts. She was surprised to feel tears flood her eyes as she held him and kissed his hair and tried desperately not to tell him she loved him. She wanted to so much her heart ached with it, but she fought back the emotion, drying her eyes, and tried to relax, to enjoy the afterglow. She knew she should say something, to tell him how good it was this time, but she was also pretty sure that he knew already and she didn't trust her voice.

Eventually he lifted himself high enough to kiss her. "Was that better?" he whispered into her ear. She nodded mutely knowing she must be flushed, hoping he wouldn't see the shed tears glistening on her cheek. "I'm so tired," he said, and muffled a plaintive groan into her skin. He rolled off her, reaching down to pull the covers over the pair of them. She felt the blankets cover her, enveloped in their warmth, and then smiled as Heero's arms went around her under the covers, his body sidling along her body and his heat seeping into her flesh. She laid her head on the pillow and closed her eyes, wiping away all her thoughts, and tried to fall asleep again.

*****

Relena woke again when she felt Heero stirring. A glance at the clock told her it was midmorning and she immediately felt bad for having slept in so long. Heero sat up when she turned over, shaking his head and rubbing a hand through his hair. Relena realized the covers were wrapped mostly around her and wondered if she had tugged them away from Heero while they slept, or if he would notice if she did.

"Good morning," she said, feeling sweet and lazy and pleased by the sunlight streaming in through the window.

He turned his head to smile at her and then crawled over her body. Although the sheets and comforter separated them, his weight was heavy and she felt decidedly trapped. By the way he was smiling, he wasn't asking for anything, though. He just seemed to want to be close to her.

"I must look awful," she said before she thought. Her face always looked sweaty in the mornings, her hair was sure to be messy and tangled and all her imperfections looked ten times worse before she showered and dressed and applied make-up. 

He narrowed his eyes, shifting on top of her so that he was lying completely across her on top of the covers and then reached up to brush hair away from her face. "Don't say that," he said. "I've already told you you're beautiful." From his tone, it was like he expected never to have to say it again, like she should memorize the information and never need to ask. It sounded like him.

"I need to shower," she said.

He let her up, rolling off of her and onto his side, and then watched as she pushed back the covers and sat up. His eyes followed her as she got out of the bed. She felt a little self-conscious under his stare, going so far as to blush and then berating herself for it. Once she was out of the room she managed to relax, pacing down the hallway to the bathroom and shutting the door to guard her privacy. She looked in the mirror in grimaced. Heero was a fine liar but she looked worse to herself than she thought she would. Her hair was stringy, her face sweaty, and her imperfections looked worse than ever. But maybe Heero didn't notice them. Sometimes she believed that he was sweet enough.

While she turned on the water and waited for it to get hot, she heard a knock on the door.

"What is it?" she asked, unlocking it and sticking her head out. Why was she hiding behind the door?

"Clean towels," Heero said, handing a folded set of blue ones to her. "I wasn't sure there were any in there."

"Thank you," she said, taking them. They stared into each other's eyes a moment and he didn't make any movement to leave. "Did you…" she stammered. "Did you want to come in with me?" She blushed at the thought. Where had this aggression come from?

He eyed her sideways. "Not right now."

She wasn't sure whether to feel disappointed or relieved or puzzled. He was probably just sated from the night. "All right," she said.

But she left the door unlocked when he went away. The shower felt good as soon as she was in it, and it distracted her from her thoughts. She luxuriated in the feel of the hot water pouring down over her head from the faucet, soaking her hair against her head and back and flowing over her body. Sex was messier than she had really realized it was going to be and it felt good to wash off. She lathered shampoo in her hair and then rubbed Heero's cake of cheap soap into her skin. She missed her moisturizing lather washes. Cake soap made her skin feel squeaky. Likewise, Heero's shampoo made her hair feel dry. She had heard that leaving your things in your boyfriend's home might make him feel encroached upon, but this wasn't going to work for her. She used to carry some things around in her bag, but at this point she ought to be able to start leaving some things here. She was Heero's girlfriend. He shouldn't mind something like that.

Heero didn't join her in the shower but she found herself fantasizing about what it would be like if he did. She couldn't believe that she wanted him again already. Was this really her? It seemed almost unreasonable and she hadn't felt quite this way when she was sitting on the couch earlier, so what had changed? It must have been because she enjoyed the sex this time. She wondered if she should feel lucky. Gossip informed her that most girls' experiences weren't this good this quickly. It must take some people awhile to work things out, to familiarize themselves with one another, and that was if both people in a relationship were giving equally. But Heero seemed so interested in pleasing her, and he was so thorough about doing whatever it was he set his mind to that she couldn't help feeling special. It made her sad to think that other girls were perhaps not so lucky, that maybe a lot of people were enduring her initial disappointment over and over until they gave up on it. Maybe men weren't trying hard enough. Maybe girls' bodies just weren't up to it, or maybe it was their frame of mind. Was there any kind of secret? She wished she knew.

After her shower Relena combed out her hair and wrapped herself in a towel. She wondered if her being in a towel would excite Heero at all. It covered her from the top of her breasts to the top of her thighs, but it was something that would come off easily. She blushed again. What was with all these thoughts?

Heero had put on boxers and was in the process of changing the bed sheets when she padded back into his room, still wrapped in a towel and barefoot. He turned to look at her when she came in and a smirk teased at the corners of his mouth. "You look sexy," he said almost coyly, almost teasingly.

"Well I didn't have my clothes," she replied. 

He finished tucking in the corners of the bed while she stood by and watched. He was as perfect about bed-making as anything else. "What did you want to do today?" she asked.

He shrugged. Patting the bed, he got up off his knees and approached her softly. His chest was warm and smooth and felt nice to her as she kissed his sternum tenderly. His arms wrapped around her, caressing her care shoulders and curiously exploring the towel wrapped around her body. "I don't know," he said in answer to her question. "I need to take a shower too. Can I use your towel?"

She didn't have time for surprise before he grasped the edge of it and pulled it deftly from her body. Cold swept over her as the protective covering unfolded and air pebbled her skin. She gasped, but he only smiled, taking in her nakedness once again with that same self-satisfied smirk. His hand brushed over her stomach and it fluttered as he passed her by, carrying her towel as he headed for the bathroom.

Once he was gone, Relena made a search for her clothes. She sat on the edge of the bed while she dressed, knowing why Heero had changed the sheets. She didn't think she had bled, or not much, but there was other stuff that needed to be cleaned up. She didn't think much of it. Stuffing her lingerie into her bag, she instead pulled on the more comfortable cotton items that she had packed for today and then a pair of jeans and the tight sweater she had worn the day before. That sweater was new and she hardly got to wear it at all yesterday. She was doing her hair when Heero came back, pulling half of it away from her face and pinning it behind her head with a silver clip. The hairstyle had been hers as a naive girl, but though she wanted her hair to dry, she also wanted it out of her face, so it would serve a purpose for now. She didn't really care if Heero thought it childish.

He didn't seem to notice at all. He dressed in front of her while she watched, returning the same stares he had given her. She didn't think he minded as much and wasn't entirely sure he had even noticed.

Once dressed, he asked her what she wanted to do.

"I don't know," she said.

It felt weird. Part of her wanted to be treated like a princess and another part of her didn't want to make a big deal out of it. She wanted to feel special and she wanted to be loved. She had given her virginity to him and entrusted herself wholly to him for safekeeping. Her heart was wound up in his regard for her and she wanted him to show her that regard so she could be sure her heart was safe. At the same time, she knew that Heero was a man, mostly oblivious to romantic notions and not likely to think of sex in the same terms she did. 

They started with breakfast, which was simple and small portions and which suited Relena just fine. He made tea for her the way she liked it, lightly steeped with a little sugar, and they sat on the couch together to watch the morning news. She couldn't help arguing with the anchors and their portrayal of events that she was personally caught up in, and it was most disconcerting to see herself featured as a highlight of the press.

"Miss Relena Darilan, Vice Foreign Minster of Intergalactic Affairs proposed a resource management campaign that was voted down yesterday in Senate…"

She sighed. Strangely, what has seemed so upsetting the day before meant very little to her today. If the proposal was refused she would simply write another one and word it differently, which a few additional clauses. She would need to win over some of the objecting companies, but she didn't think it was anything she couldn't handle. Looking back on it, it seemed a seriously stupid thing to cry about. Maybe it was because today she was holding Heero's hand and more focused on being his lover than a politician.

"They'll accept it eventually," Heero murmured. "I don't think you have to worry about it."

She accepted this graciously and leaned her head against his shoulder. 

What in the world were they going to do all day? Relena wasn't the type of person to be interested in being busy with some activity or another all the time. She was perfectly content to sit around and read the newspaper or a book or work at her job by herself. Spending time with Heero just in the evenings had been difficult enough. Normally, action in the bedroom took up their time together, but they already did that just a few hours ago so what now? Were all relationships like this or was it just because she and Heero were such reserved, solitary people?

The phone rang.

"I'll be right back," Heero murmured, and got up to answer it. 

Relena stayed on the couch, pulling her knees in and thinking furiously. She wasn't dating Heero anymore. There was no reason that they should have to spend every moment together entertaining one another. She was comfortable just being here and knowing that he was hers. She couldn't imagine having to try and entertain anyone for the rest of her life. Wasn't evidence of a good relationship that feeling that you didn't have to make them stay with you? Two people who could just be themselves together… wasn't that what she wanted? She decided to just relax.

Heero returned to her a few minutes later.

"Who was that?" she asked him curiously. She couldn't imagine who would call Heero on his house phone.

"Mandred," Heero replied, seating himself beside her again. He picked up her legs and swung them over his lap, touching her skin at the ankle.

"I haven't seen Mandred in ages," Relena said. "Is he doing all right?" All she knew about Mandred was that he was older, foreign and had known Dr. J professionally when Heero was a child. There seemed to be something else about him too, but she couldn't remember what it was. He was philosophical and mild mannered, but had such a gentlemanly confidence and strength about him that he was hard to ignore. She also knew he loved Heero in a fatherly way, though he treated him more like a favorite student or more distant family member. "What did he want?"

"I don't know," Heero said, and almost sounded puzzled. "To check up on me, I guess."

Relena smiled. How strange for Heero. He must not be used to that. She wondered suddenly if Heero had told Mandred, or anyone, about her. She was troubled momentarily when she thought about it, but then, Heero had few people to tell.

"Hey," he said, "I have to run some errands later. Do you want to come with me?"

"Sure," she said.

"When we get back," he began, looking at her. The way he had been touching her legs changed, lengthening into sweeping caresses that applied gentle, seductive pressure. "Do you…?"

She licked her lips and swung her legs off of him, shifting until she was sitting up on her knees. She leaned in toward him, reaching aggressively for his face with her mouth as his hands went to her waist, slipping under her sweater and feeling her skin. She kissed him softly, climbing into his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders. "Are you ready again?" she asked so quietly he had to strain to hear her.

His expression didn't change, but his eyes swept over her measuringly. "Yeah."

She kissed him again and took the initiative to open his mouth, filling his mouth with her tongue. His hands tightened on her waist, his head tilting back to take her. "You're getting aggressive," he whispered when she broke away for air.

"Is that bad?" she asked. She moved her hips softly, hovering over him, trapping him on the couch with his hands on her waist.

"No," he said. "You'd better stop that, though. I really have to run errands…"

She giggled and couldn't believe that sound came out of her. She stopped as he asked, and he almost seemed disappointed when she did, but the next minute he lifted her off him and then offered her his hand. 

"Come on," he said. "I've got some things to do and then we'll come back."

It sounded like a good idea to her. She couldn't even be embarrassed. It was difficult to believe she was the same person today as she was yesterday. She didn't know where this sudden aggression had come from. It wasn't that long ago that she had been afraid of her own body's reaction to him. Slowly she had gotten used to him and now it just seemed that all of her worrying was for nothing. She loved Heero and she wanted to share everything with him. Everything. She wanted to feel this way forever. 

TBC

Please spare but a moment of your time and leave a review! 


	18. Some Friendly Advice

Desires of the Heart

Chapter 18

By Zapenstap

Heero had trouble keeping his eyes on the road while he drove. He was almost glad that Relena was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved sweater, however tightly they molded to her body. If she had been wearing a skirt, he didn't think he would have been able to keep his hands off her. 

Her fingers slipped between his and she turned to smile at him. Relena's smiles were reserved, a soft upturn of the lips in a face starting to show elegant angles but not quite yet devoid of baby fat. Her hair hung down her back and shoulders in honey-blonde strands that he wanted to touch and run his hands through, but he found himself looking through her hair at her neck instead, eyes trailing down the gentle arch of soft and creamy skin to the collar of her sweater. Memory told him what she was like under her clothes. He had seen it often enough, but last night he had felt that mystery wrapped around his body, had seduced and ravished it twice and hungered for it still. Their first coupling had been less than perfect due to his inexperience and had resulted in something less than satisfactory for her, but the second attempt was better.  It made such a difference to work her into a sweat with his body and persuade her to whimper and cry for him to complete her. To make her feel the pleasure he felt…he couldn't think of anything more satisfying.  

"Heero?" she said from beside him. He pulled his mind out of the sensual dream that clouded his thoughts. "Do you do missions anymore?"

He glanced at her sideways, keeping his tone low and nominal. "Why do you ask?"

She closed her eyes and smiled in that accepting, knowing way she always did when he answered her in a way she expected.  He didn't know how to feel about the way she could predict him.  "I just like to know what you're up to," she said. "You're still so secretive and it's hard sometimes. I just want to be close to you." 

"I've told you more about my life than I've ever told anybody," he informed her, turning his eyes back to the road. 

"I understand," she said. "It's difficult for you. It's just that I…I care a lot about you." 

"I care a lot about you too," he said quietly.

She smiled at him, a sweet, patient smile that was almost sad. Her hand in his caressed his fingers delicately.

Looking at her, he couldn't help but think that she was still so innocent. The thought did not deter him. He had been aware of it before, but something in him wanted to dissociate his relationship with Relena from his missions and the battles and his regrets of the past. Her freshness was part of what attracted him to her, a clean and simple beauty that was like nothing he had ever known.  Sometimes she came across as naïve, but it didn't make her less desirable in his mind, especially knowing her body the way he did now. She was wild and beautiful and unknowingly sensual and her innocence somehow made it more surreal. Once he had been more wary of his desire for her, but that was before he realized the depths of his own loneliness, before he understood how attracted he was to her. Now he just wanted to touch her, and he knew that she wanted him to.

He pulled into the shopping market, parked near the entrance to the grocery store and locked the car after Relena got out and shut the door. Watching her stroll a few paces away, he surreptitiously traced the slim lines of her figure just barely outlined by her clothes with his eyes.  Smirking, he strode past her toward his destination. She smiled, catching up to take his hand and walking close to his shoulder. He could smell the fruit scents from her shampoo in her hair, the long, clean strands of which flew out around her head as a light breeze picked up around them. She was truly a lovely thing to look at, growing more so every year as she grew out of her childishness and into an adult grace. 

When they walked into the grocery store, he felt like they were being stared at. He didn't think it was because of who she was. Though a lot of people recognized Relena, few took too much notice of her personally these days. She was sometimes a curiosity, but unless she was doing or saying something politically important in the world at large, it was generally only government officials and politically active citizens who took an active interest in her affairs.  Some people did not recognize her out of uniform even.  What Heero felt was people eyeing them as a couple and noticing their intimacy by their body language, whether they recognized Relena or not. It didn't precisely bother him, and in some ways it invigorated him, but to counteract those stares he took her possessively by the waist, glaring at any man who eyed her in his grip. He felt smug when they averted their gaze, reminding himself that only he had privileged access.

But she blushed and slipped out of his grasp, speaking nonsensically in a voice heightened to a nervous pitch.  Something about not drawing eyes. He liked to hear her nervous, liked the way her voice trembled with uncertainty. She seemed more human and less of an icon when she was unsure, more attainable and flawed and interesting. In the past he had sometimes gotten the feeling that even in her personal interactions, Relena Darilan took on the role of whatever professional position was expected of her.  Perhaps he did too, but what he was seeing now, and had been seeing for awhile, was a woman with less of an idea of what she was doing than she so confidently presented. There was weakness in her, frailty and inexperience and insecurity. It was attractive.  It was challenging. She backed away from him, smiling as she did so, and he followed almost predatorily.

"Um, what do you need at the store, Heero?" 

He grabbed a basket in passing. "Things," he said. He encroached upon her space again, stepping close enough so that his chest brushed against her shoulder. 

"You shouldn't stand so close," she whispered. "We're in public." 

He seized her hand, catching her eyes with an intense, demanding stare. "What about it?"

Her lips faltered, staring at him with her lips slightly parted and self-consciousness written all over her face. "It's just…"

"What are they going to see?" he asked. She closed her mouth and didn't answer, but slowly something gratifying swept through her eyes when he didn't back down. He put an arm around her waist again and guided her down the produce aisle. She stopped protesting, leaning slightly into his shoulder as they walked side by side. He caught sight of her reflection in the widows of the refrigerated food closets and was pleased to see that she was smiling. His hand crept under her shirt to feel the heat of her bare skin and she squirmed a little, but did not make further protest. When he pushed his fingers down the waistband of her jeans just at the hip, she made a plaintive noise and he stopped pushing his advantage. He could just feel the edge of her underwear and allowed his fingers to dance teasingly across it. 

He filled his basket with food item essentials and also restocked some of his basic kitchen and bathroom supplies. He had virtually nothing left at home as he always waited until the last minute before he went to the store. Relena gradually relaxed, eventually ignoring the glances of others and even holding his arm to keep it around her. It pleased him that she wanted his body close to hers. 

"You know, you never answered my question," she said as he crouched down to look closer at the labels of soup cans. "Are you still doing missions, Heero? Is it so terrible to tell me?"

He appraised her levelly, answering in a straightforward, honest tone. "I've been asked to do a few favors every once in awhile, nothing very dangerous and usually in the way of verifying information. I just don't really want to talk about it, if that's all right with you."

She was quiet for several moments. "All right," she said at last. "You don't have to tell me about it. I don't need…"

He looked at her more gently then, and when the aisle cleared of people, rose from his crouch to kiss her on the lips before she could react. She floundered in mid-sentence, her words absorbed by his mouth. She stood still as he kissed her, slowly running his hands up and down her sides as his mouth engaged hers hungrily. When he pulled away, he did not back up, looking into her eyes closely, their foreheads nearly touching. "I'll tell you about it," he whispered. "Someday. I don't want to think about those sorts of things when I'm with you."

She nodded dumbly, blue eyes sparkling with a bejeweled shimmer like the aquamarine he had given her more than a month ago. He brushed a finger against her cheek fondly and the reassurance in her eyes settled him. He walked past her, brushing by her right shoulder and striding down the aisle with his basket.

He suddenly wanted to take her home and make her his again, perhaps just to prove that he could, and because it felt phenomenal.  Sex was new, but it was something he liked, and it was his aim to master the it thoroughly. He had never learned a skill that required his complete attention and distracted him at the same time. The contrast was energizing. Paying attention to the subtle cues of her body informed him what to do and with what intensity, but at the same time his own senses were worked into pleasurable overload. He supposed he needed more practice. He believed he would get it down eventually. He had never before failed to be good at anything that required attention to detail and physical endurance.

Relena was quiet as they stood together in the checkout line, but once he paid for his food items, she pressed her face into his shoulder. Her arms went around his middle as they moved out into the parking lot, and he let her hold him gladly. 

"Where to now?" she asked as he unlocked the car door for her.

"I have to go to the bank and the dry cleaners, but we can stop somewhere for lunch. Unless you need to go home."

"Oh. No," she said, getting in the car. "I…I don't want to go home. I like spending time with you. Breakfast was late and I'm really not that hungry yet. Can we go to the post office, though? I need stamps."

He took her to the post office while he went to the bank. After all of his errands, it was nearly five in the afternoon and by the time he suggested Chinese take-out for dinner, and the sun was already beginning to set. They ate their dinner in front of his television, open boxes of rice and vegetables and strips of beef scattered over the surface of his coffee table. When they were finished eating, they both got up to clear the table, use the restroom and brush their teeth. Heero watched Relena move about in the kitchen, strangely attracted to every little thing she did, the way her torso twisted when she looked behind her and the way her hair fell over her shoulders when she leaned forward. He watched her out of the corner of his eye after he returned to the couch, and she smiled at him when she noticed, immediately coming to sit beside him. She swung her legs up on the couch and nestled comfortably against his side, her head leaning against his chest so that it was easy to play with her hair while he flicked through the channels.

"Can we just watch something?" she murmured after a few minutes. "You've gone past several interesting things. Why can't you just settle on one?"

"There might be something better on one of the higher channels, or somewhere else in a few minutes."

"Well the flickering is giving me a headache. Please just pick something."

He looked down at her, amused, and asked her what she wanted to watch. They settled on a movie, during which Heero's hand wandered idly over Relena's body, stroking the side exposed to him down to the hip. They both watched the screen quietly, comfortable with their platonic proximity but growing gradually more interested in each other as time spent so close together ticked by. Relena shifted several times throughout the production, sidling closer to him and playing with the material of his shirt. When the credits began to role, she curiously turned her face into his chest. Looking down at the hair failing around her head, he had the impression that she was smiling at some secret thought she didn't want him to see.

He hoped he could guess what was on her mind.

His fingers danced down along her spine suggestively. She moved in response, and he stroked his hands smoothly up her back. Her face, still turned into his chest, descended lower to his stomach, and he forgot about whatever it was she might be thinking as warm breath from her mouth reached his skin beneath his shirt. His head fell softly back against the padded backboard of the couch as he relaxed, his hand jumping up to stroke her hair and neck to indicate that he had noticed where her attention was. Her hands pushed up his shirt, revealing bare skin to the soft wetness of her mouth, and he closed his eyes, imagining kissing her stomach, keeping one hand on the back of her head as the other moved down past the small of her back to her caress her rear. 

She unbuttoned his pants, still kissing his stomach, and he reacted predictably.   He looked past her at the wall as one of her hands reached between his legs and applied pressure to his crotch, stimulating his growing arousal through his jeans. "Relena…" he whispered.

She shushed him with a responsive whisper and he felt her tongue on his navel, tantalizing his senses as she pulled at his jeans, tugging them over his hips. He helped her, lifting himself up and then kicking the things off. Sitting on the couch in his boxers, he briefly met her eyes as she sat up beside him and crawled onto his lap the way she had this morning. Her thighs straddled him to either side, her fingers digging into his hair as she lowered herself onto him. It was a different experience in his boxers. The blood rushed to his loins and he felt himself hard, straining for a woman fully clothed and looming teasingly over him. He couldn't take his eyes off her. His hands threaded through her hair to her neck and then down her arms. She was watching his face, but all he could see was her breasts right in front of his eyes, shielded by her sweater. 

She helped him remove it when he grabbed it by the edge and pulled up. Her skin was revealed slowly and he took advantage of it with the touch of his hands, caressing her stomach and teasing her ribs while he stared at the lacy bra that confined her breasts. He took a moment to regard the entire procedure strategically, laying out a loose agenda in his head designed to make her orgasm the way he wanted to. The soft, hazy look in her eyes pulled him in. He caught her eyes with his, not allowed her to shut them or turn her head by the intensity of his stare while his hands caressed her curves, running down her back and thighs and over her rear. With gentle ministrations, he persuaded her to rise from his lap so that he could reach under her ass from behind. Her breathing lost its steady rhythm as he pushed teasingly at her core through her jeans. He avoided her clit, not quite reaching high enough, and her expression became strained and she rocked her hips back so that the tips of his fingers would slide against it.  She whispered longingly and when that wasn't enough she fell forward into him, supporting herself by the elbows on the back of the couch, her head hanging to the side of his face as she panted breathlessly into his neck. He rubbed her as she wanted, listening to her gasp and moan in his ear.  His erection was painful.  He needed to get her undressed and under him.

He kissed her earlobe, biting at it playfully.  "Let's take this to the bedroom," he whispered. 

She nodded wordlessly, and he scooped her up in his arms easily.  Carried her to the bedroom, he didn't bother to shut the door. Something about an open door increased his excitement. He laid her down on the bed and pulled open the buttons of her jeans, turning down the flaps to reveal her underwear, but not taking them off. The hindering fabric would help him stay with it. Opening her knees, he slid comfortably between them, a little lower than his favorite place, and focused his attention on her breasts.

Though small, they were soft and round and he found them to be as pretty and confounding as the rest of her. He worked around her bra, slipping his hands under it to hold her breasts and then shifting it up so that he could take one of them into his mouth. His tongue worked over and around the nipple, lavishing it with attention while his ears absorbed the soft pleading whimpers that issued from her throat. He liked the sounds. He worked harder for more of them. His hands grabbed the outside of her knees and ran down the length of her thighs to her hips. He liked the way her jeans molded to her skin and there was something erotic about her still being half clothed and crying out for him to take her. He lifted his mouth from her breast and slid up until he could feel the heat of her core against his arousal through their clothes. He groaned into her ear, his hands working her breasts again as her fingers tangled in his hair. 

"Heero… please…"

He leaned into her, straining to pull his head close to her face, and spoke softly into her ear. "Do you want me?" 

She pulled his shirt up and he attacked her pants and they both had to half sit up to finish undressing. Relena's bra and underwear and jeans were left as they lay on the bed, burying Heero's boxers on the rumpled sheets. Heero took Relena by the shoulders and met her lips with a desperate, hungry kiss. His hands wandered down her back as her tongue entered his mouth and he lowered her back down to the bed, cradling his body between her knees. Her skin fluttered under his hands as he touched it, producing violent twitches and shivers that he kissed if he saw them. Her skin was tasteless, but he liked tasting it. He buried his face in the fragrance of her hair and abruptly felt her hand grasp his member where is strained against her stomach.  He groaned and she stroked it until he was unable to speak.

She turned her head so that her lips were close enough to kiss. "I want you, Heero, please."

Kissing her, he supported himself on his elbows as he lowered his pelvis and eased himself inside of her, grunting at the pleasurable sensation that pulsed in his loins. He moved slowly at first, gasping with pleasure as Relena breathed laboriously beneath him. He tried to increase her stimulation by positioning her body advantageously to his entrance, but was overwhelmed by the feel of her lips on his shoulders and neck, her hot breath in his ear. Her lips trembled on his cheekbone, her hands grasping him to her as he lengthened his strokes.

"Oh, God, Heero, I'm going to…"

He knew when she was coming, and was glad to feel it because he was close himself. Her whole body clenched tight and she threw her head back spasmodically, crying softly and unintelligibly under him as he continued to pump into her. _Jesus_.  While her tremors subsided, he sweated with the effort it took to push himself over into orgasm. Relena opened her eyes as he fought to finish, clear and bright with the passing of her pleasure. She touched his face with her hand and continued to move with him, whispering to him in words he couldn't quite understand. He clenched his eyes shut, hanging his head as he sped up, mouth gaping open in wordless exclamation as he began to come. He strained to complete his release, pushing his hands into the mattress, aided by Relena's legs wrapped around his hips. He swore at the last, forgetting that she might be sensitive to language. And only when the final wave crested over him did he regain his composure, blinking over Relena unsteadily as she rubbed her hands gently through his hair and neck and kissed him tenderly. He rolled off her body and sank down to the bed, burying his face in the pillow beside her.

"Three times," Relena whispered, sitting up so that her hands could caress his back in slow, soothing strokes. "Three times this weekend. Is this normal?"

He turned his head slightly to look at her with one eye. "Do you want something more?"

She blushed under his gaze, a pink tint that increased the glow in her skin. "No. I'm happy."

He smiled and pulled the covers over them both, wrapping his arms around her and breathing together as their bodies cooled in the darkness.

It was perfect. Everything was perfect.

*****

Two days later, Relena walked into a bookstore after work with the intention of buying a new compilation of modern political speech addresses and a novel to read at night and during trips. She had been thinking an awful lot about Heero and the climactic aftermath of her first sexual experiences with him, something that had turned into a weekend affair. For whatever reason, she really felt like she glowed and could not keep the smile from her face. Was it was sex or her love of Heero or just a general aura of happiness that made her days shine so luminously? 

Coworkers had noticed. Oliva has cornered her in the hallway after a meeting and demanded details. She told them briefly, with a stammer and a blush, about how the first time had left something to be desired but how the other two times had left her gasping. If anything, Olivia seemed a little jealous, but not meanly or overtly, asking how someone inexperience could be any good.  Then Olivia showered her with sex advice.

Relena wasn't sure she needed sex advice from Olivia, though she listened curiously. She couldn't stop having fantasies of her own. Her embarrassment over oral sex before had been cute compared to the brazen desires she had now. For one thing she wanted to move out of the bedroom and try it in a different atmosphere, and maybe in a different position. Her face heated up when she thought about it, but it didn't stop her from thinking up methods by which to entice Heero to please her in new ways. But she was not selfish. She also enjoyed pleasing him, and spent a lot of idle time thinking up new tricks to try. However, she didn't think she was brave enough yet to actually do what she imagined. She was still getting used to things.

"Well if it isn't Relena Peacecraft."

She blinked and turned away from the bookshelf she had been rifling through to see Wufei Chang standing in line at the counter. He had a stack of books in his arms and a pair of reading glasses on his nose. It took her a moment to recognize him.

"Wufei Chang," she greeted him. "It's a pleasure. Have we… met before? I mean officially?"

He smirked and turned away from her, reposition the books under his arm.  It was almost rude. "I don't think so. I didn't expect to ever actually have to talk to you."

"I see," she said, and felt a bit nettled by his response.   

"Can I ask you a question?"

"I suppose," she replied.  

"Are you really seeing Heero Yuy?"

She blinked.  His tone was almost insulting, unless that was just the way he talked.  After a moment, t didn't surprise her that he had heard, but why did he mention it with such surprise? "Yeah. For several months now."

"Huh."

There was something in the tilt of his chin and the slight raise of his eyebrows that irritated her. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

He looked coolly away.  "It's really none of my business."

She felt obligated to defend herself. She had heard things about Wufei from other people, mainly that he was intellectual and prideful and had a dislike for sentimentality. "Look," she said, feeling a passion rise in her that yielded poignant eloquence. "I don't know why you dislike me so much. Maybe you don't like me as a politician. Maybe you think that I'm not good enough for Heero. Maybe you think it brings a warrior down to fall in love, but the point is that I _do_ love Heero, and I…"

"Who said I didn't like you?"

She faltered. "Well…"

"Your pacifism of the past insulted me as a warrior, but these days none of that matters. As for you and Heero, I don't really care. I just wanted confirmation on the rumors. I thought it was odd."

"How is it odd?"

"I don't see Heero in a relationship."

She fought back the urge to say something biting. Heero was not a weapon anymore. He deserved to be loved as much as the next person. Did even his old comrades still think of him as nothing more than a soldier? "Well what about you? You are a warrior, right? Do you ever plan on being in any relationships?"

He grunted. "Not right now. But it's different anyway. Heero and I aren't coming from the same place."

"What do you mean?"

"Look, Miss Peacecraft. I'm going to admit that I don't know Heero that well. It's possible he's found the love of his life with you. It just seems a little early to me that a guy like Heero would be ready for the kind of social and personal commitment that a serious relationship takes. I can tell by looking at you that you're serious. So keep this is mind, just as a little friendly advice: When Heero really knows what he wants, he goes after it with all he's got. That guy's all about goals. And he relies heavily on instinct."

Relena smiled.  Yes.  Heere was all about goals.  _He went after me._

Wufei eyed her stoically. "Are you sleeping with him?"

She blushed, one of her hands going automatically to her face, and she knew she had given it away.  Stiffening her back, she turned back to the shelf where she had been scanning for a recommended title.

"Huh," he smirked. "I thought so. Well, it's clear to me that I can't be of any help here. Take care of yourself. If I were you, I'd ask him how he feels."

She watched Wufei pay for his books and walk out of the store without turning back. Something in his tone made her stomach flop over, and she berated herself for feeling uneasy over the assessment of someone who was not a participant in her relationship. Heero _had_ gone after her, goal-oriented just as Wufei had said. Perhaps it was just difficult for Wufei to believe that Heero could change so much, or that underneath his perfect soldier exterior he could be so sweet and caring and attentive to a girl, or that he could also be vulnerable to one. However, Wufei was right about one thing. It was past time to ask Heero how he felt. She didn't want to wonder anymore.

TBC

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	19. New Years Eve

Litany of Disclaimers:

Hello, all ye faithful!  Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, or whatever it is you want to celebrate.  Keeping track of time in a story is hard for me, but I realized that this story has progressed to right around this time of year.  However, I skipped Christmas! But it's not because I don't celebrate Christmas.  I just didn't write about it.  Maybe I'll add a chapter in right before the first lemon that will incorporate Christmas, but for now, just don't worry about.  Lol.

Anyways, I apologize for lateness! Other fics, finals, holiday stress and a SLOW TORTUROUS writing process were all excuse factors in the pathetic tardiness of this latest chapter.  I beg your forgiveness… and your reviews.  Please don't forget to review!  

I don't own Gundam Wing!

Oh yeah! I also disclaim the lemon!  *disclaims*  As always, kinda detailed but not really.

All right, all right, you can read the story now!  ^_~

Desires of the Heart

Chapter 19

By Zapenstap

            Relena was not able to ask Heero the question she most wanted to.  Three days after he told her not to ask about his missions, he went on one, without telling her anything about it except that he had something to do and would see her in a few days.  Wufei had mentioned nothing of the sort in the bookstore so she wasn't even sure if what had called him away had anything to do with the Preventors.  After that scene in the grocery store, she didn't want to badger him again by asking.

            His absence left her feeling lonesome and disappointed.  She hadn't been so many days without seeing him since her last official visit to the Colonies, and that was before their relationship had gotten serious.  When she left for the Colonies, she had missed him, but this was different.  He had kissed her right before her trip to the Colonies, and she remembered the regret she felt boarding a plane after feeling his hands on her face and his lips on her for the first time, but this past week had been far worse.  Then she had not yet established expectations, but after having sex with Heero, after having sex for the first time with anyone, she felt as if a part of her was wandering lost and unaccounted for in some forgotten place in the world.  He had taken something of her and now she craved the burning touch of his body the way moths did flames. Maybe that made her some kind of sex-fiend but she didn't see how repressing the desire was healthy by contrast.  It seemed natural to want him, and having to live in abstinence from the man she loved and to whom she had so recently given her virginity was a heartrending torture. 

            Not that there weren't benefits.  She spent her time alone fighting for her rejected proposal to be brought back to the floor from where it had been buried in committee.   Without Heero to distract her, she found she was able to devote her time to the politics involved, having luncheons with the key officials involved in the proceedings, working on alternate proposals until late in the evening and paying particular detail to her speeches.  After work, she crashed in her own bed without having her night disrupted by Heero's attentions.  She would wake up refreshed and found herself with more time to dress and fuss over her appearance, using the hair products and appliances that she didn't dare store at Heero's house, and still with time left over to make a cup of coffee, go over her notes and prepare for her day.  It was the sort of day she had had before Heero came into her life, but though it was nice to have some time to take care of her own things, she still missed him.  His being away made it clear to her how addicted she had become to him, how in love she was with everything she knew and had experienced of him.  When she found time to go shopping, she spent most of it picking out things to wear that she thought Heero would like to see her in, clothes and makeup and jewelry that she imagined would entice him to hold her and kiss her and make love to her as soon as he returned.  

            As the days passed she began to fret.  Heero's 'day or two' lengthened into a week, and not only did she not see him, but save for one exception, he also didn't call.  The one time came by her initiation.  After the few days he stipulated, she became worried and called him on a Saturday, leaving a message on his phone asking him if he would be back before New Years Eve.  He returned her call on Sunday and confirmed that he would, but the conversation was brief and he volunteered no information about what he was up to.  She was relieved to hear he would be back because they had engagements, but since then it had been several days of silence.  Today was New Years Eve.  And he had not called yet.

            Perhaps his mission, whatever it was, was dangerous and that was why he had been unable to contact her, but when she had talked to him on Sunday he hadn't seemed particularly anxious.  True to her promise, she didn't ask him what he had been doing, only if he was all right.  When she told him she missed him, he told her he missed her too, but she blushed to think how he would react if he knew how much his absence pained her.  

            All she could think about sometimes was how lonely her hours were and how cold her bed was without Heero to occupy it.  She had been sleeping in Heero's bed for over a month, usually with his arms around her and almost never without their doing something.  Even before they actually had sex they had minded about it, the temptation of each other's bodies too much to ignore.  She had always wanted Heero.  His kisses, the feel of his palms brushing back her hair from her face, his smooth hard body and the way his hands and mouth made her ache and arch and shudder violently under his touch were things she could not forget or give up easily.  Four days wasn't very long, but after just having given him her virginity, she wanted at least a phone call.

            It was New Years Eve and they had made reservations at a fancy restaurant in the city center that overlooked the ocean.  Reservations were at eight o'clock and it was almost six thirty.  She couldn't stop looking at the clock.  Heero had not called to either confirm or cancel their engagement.  He probably didn't realize how long it would take her to get ready for a night of dinner and dancing at a prestigious hotspot that was usually booked a year in advance, but was that a good excuse?  It was her connections that had landed them a last minute table and she had been so proud to arrange it, thinking of how wonderful it would be to take Heero to such a lovely, elegant place.  Now, quite suddenly, she was afflicted with doubts.

            _Did Heero love her?_

            Relena stared at her reflection in the mirror and paused in the middle of applying touch power to her nose.  It was a stupid question.  If Heero did not love her he would not have led her to believe it and they would have taken things more slowly; he would not have asked her to be his girlfriend or bought her flowers or a necklace or made love to her the way he did that weekend. Leaning forward, she touched up her eyes with a golden shimmer eye shadow she had paid an outrageous price for at an expensive boutique and speculated why such an idea occurred to her. What Wufei had said in the bookstore and her time apart from Heero for the last week was making her paranoid.  It was reasonable that she would feel insecure in Heero's absence, especially with what Wufei had told her, but these fears were speculative.  She knew Heero needed to take things slow, that expressing his feelings was new to him and that having a woman in his life was not something he had ever been prepared to handle.  She needed to have patience.

            She would still like to ask him how he felt, but not tonight.  After seeing him for the first time in a week and when they had expensive reservations, she just wanted to enjoy their time together.  Tonight she would use the time to study her own feelings for Heero so that she would know what to say when the time came, probably tomorrow or perhaps the next day.  There was no need for haste and dread and anxiety.  It was probably thinking and obsessing about it in the first place that had planted doubts in her head.  It was strange how easily people were influenced by the opinions of others. Wufei couldn't possibly know anything about her relationship with Heero.

            She reminded herself of the sweet moments they had shared, the desperate hug Heero had given her on the hill and the first kiss he had given her in her office before she had gone on an extended trip.  Come to think of it, when _she went away that time she hadn't called _him_ every day.  She had been busy and calls were expensive.  Most likely, this time around it was just Heero who was preoccupied.  She remembered the way he touched her face and held her close and how frequently he reminded her how much he cared.  When he came back she could put aside this insecure nonsense and enjoy his affections.  He had specifically told her that he had not expected to feel the way he felt about her, and though he had not defined those feelings, he had also warned her that he was not accustomed to these kinds of relationships.  Her over-analyzing was uncalled for._

            Supposing that doubt was just part of any relationship, she pushed the problem to the back of her mind.  Her mind and heart and body missed him and it would ruin tonight if she brought up such a serious question.  They would need ample time and a comfortable atmosphere before she could expect someone like Heero to tell her he loved her.  She could wait to bring it up so they could talk about it without added stress.  For now, she just wanted to be close to him again.

            But at seven o'clock Heero still hadn't called and her loving thoughts of him turned quickly to worry.  She knew what his missions might mean and she couldn't keep from wondering if something had happened to him.  What if the phone call she got wasn't from Heero but a hospital or a dispatch from the Preventors?  She could imagine herself running to a hospital in this dress with her hair and make-up done only to see him wounded or dying or unconscious on a hospital table… but no, she was being over imaginative again.  Even so, her heart clenched as she listed all the things that might have gone wrong.  A plane crash, an ambush, a shootout, or perhaps just a delay that was keeping him away from her longer than he had anticipated, but very determinedly she banished the thoughts and returned to focusing on practical matters: her hair and her makeup and her dress.  If something really terrible had happened, it would be in the news and she would get _some_ kind of phone call.  But if not, why hadn't he called?

            The hem of her black velvet dress rustled around her ankles as she stood up from her chair and removed herself from the vanity.  If she thought too much more she was going to start crying, and she was not usually a crier.  She just wished he would call, or had called a long time ago.  Alone in the dark in her own house, dressed for a date on New Years Eve and starving because she was waiting for a late dinner, she felt like a fool.  She wandered around the kitchen in her tall black heels, feeling beautiful but unappreciated as she snacked on a cracker or two and drank a glass of cold water.   Just when she was getting angry and thinking about a glass of wine to settle her nerves, the phone rang.

            "Hello?"  The receiver was cold against her ear and her stomach was tight when she answered.

            "Relena, when do you want me to pick you up?"

            "Heero?"   She was so relieved to hear his voice she didn't know how to react.  Should she be angry, relieved, or just content that he had called?   If she had not already been ready, there wouldn't have been time now, but should she have expected him to know that?  Now that it was in the past, was it worth getting angry over? Did she want to spoil the night by starting it off with a fight?  "Soon," she said, swallowing her feelings.  "There will be traffic and we will have to walk from a parking garage.  I… I thought you would have called sooner.  When did you get back?"

            "Yesterday.  I'm sorry I didn't call."

            _Yesterday_?  It was like an ice cube in her stomach.  She couldn't think of any words to speak, or even understand what had happened to make her feel so.  It was like a boy, she supposed, to be lazy about communication and not feel the need of calling, but she had been annoyed and lonely and worried.  Now she just felt…

            "Relena?"  He sounded annoyed.  "Are you really angry with me about this?"

            "No," she said quickly.  It surprised her that he would guess when she hadn't said anything, but it wasn't anger she was feeling.  Not exactly.  She didn't know how to describe it and didn't want to try. "No, I was just thinking.  If you're ready you can come pick me up now.  I'm famished."

            "All right. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

            Twenty minutes.  

            She hung up the phone and stared at it for a minute in silence.  Did he not just realize the breach in conduct he had made?  He had almost stood her up, after disappearing for almost a week with only the most minimal amount of explanation, and after she had just given her virginity to him.  Perhaps virginity was overrated, and maybe Heero didn't have any sentiments about it, but she couldn't help feeling… She couldn't describe it.  She was in love with Heero.  She missed him terribly.  Her addiction to him tantamount in her thoughts, but he hadn't called her for more than a day after coming home.  Did that mean anything?  Was he just being Heero?  Or was something else wrong?  

            When Heero came to pick her up she found herself smiling and the emotion was genuine.  His face and figure before her door caused warm waves of emotion to roll through her body.  He looked beautiful to her, alive and touchable and she stepped into his embrace almost before he could say hello.  She pressed her face into his dress shirt and the scent of him filled her nose and warmed her on the inside.  She sighed deeply and felt his hand touch her hair.  Pulling away, she looked up into his face with her arms still around his stomach.  In her head, she had imagined him kissing her on the doorstep for so long and so desperately that they would almost be late for their reservations, but instead he simply shifted out of her reach, walking alone toward the car. 

            He stopped when she didn't follow immediately.  "Are you coming?"

            She flushed and hurried down the steps.  

            Despite her best intentions to put aside her dark mood and enjoy herself, she felt unsatisfied.  Just like with their trip to the opera, he made no comment on her appearance, and remembering what he had said then brought back a flash of annoyance that she remembered suppressing that other time.  He did not open the car door for her either, regardless that she was wearing heels and had to hold her dress off the ground with one hand and her handbag in the other.  She managed without his assistance, wondering if she was going to be this angst-ridden and difficult all night.  He was sure to notice and if she complained, his annoyance over what he was sure to see as stupid lapses in chivalry would just made her feel inferior.   She just had to kick this bad mood.

            As they drove to the restaurant, Relena kept her eyes on Heero.  His eyes were intent on the road, sharp and deep and mysterious as always, the expression on his face close to unreadable.  She wondered what he had been up to the last couple days and what he was thinking about.  He seemed a little distant.  She reached for his right hand, entwining her fingers into his and smiled when he turned to look at her.  He returned her smile and squeezed her hand. They continued to drive in silence, but she relaxed, holding his hand and enjoying the comfort level between them.  When Heero drove into the parking garage, she directed him to a spot near the elevator, but once he turned off the ignition, the silence seemed to stretch and deepen.

            "I missed you," she whispered, her breath frosting in the dark.  "Will you tell me where you've been?"

            His hand froze on the wheel as he turned to face her, the light of his eyes glancing up at her from beneath his hair.   She watched him patiently, shivering in her spaghetti strap sleeves as he took a deep breath and turned his torso toward her.  Her mouth parted as his hand leapt to her face, his knuckles caressing her cheek in a gesture that was affectionate and warm and made her forget her worries and anxieties.  "Relena," he whispered in a voice that rumbled softly like thunder in the distance.

            "I'm sorry," she said.  "If you don't want to tell me…"

            "It was just a job.  I did some checkups in Europe for some people.  That's all.  You don't have concern to yourself about it."

            His voice was harder when he explained, his eyes narrowed and focused on something she couldn't see, like he was staring through her.  She touched his wrist, drawing his hand away from her face.  "Heero," she began.  "I want to concern myself.  I'm interested in what you do.  Was it with the Preventors?  Was it dangerous?"

            "It was partly with the Preventors," he replied.  "I didn't actually meet up with them, but we shared information.  No, it wasn't that dangerous."

            "Then why didn't you call me?"

            He blinked at her.  "I did call you."

            "On Sunday, you did, after I called you.  Why didn't you call me any other day?  I was worried, and…" His eyebrows were drawn together in a gesture of puzzlement, his eyes intent on her face as she tried to explain.  She bit her lip.  "Never mind," she said.  She had told herself she wasn't going to start a fight tonight by prying.

            He leaned forward and she felt his lips press against her forehead.  Her eyes closed as his hands pressed against her bare shoulders and his mouth trailed slowly down to find hers, the breath from his body warming her from the inside as he kissed her.  Their knees turned toward each other and they leaned over the gearshift, but just when Relena felt her body start to heat up, Heero pulled away.  He smiled at her and brushed hair from her eyes.  "I didn't know you would be upset," he said quietly.  "Aren't you hungry?  Do you want to go inside?  You look cold."

            She was shivering and nodded mutely.  

            The restaurant bubbled with a life and warmed her to the heart as soon as she stepped into the glitter of the atmosphere.  The lights inside were bright and beautiful, golden chandeliers gleaming down over a circle of tables set mostly for two but also for groups of people.  A small dance floor had been prepared on the inside of the circle of tables and conversation, laughter and the music issuing from a live band filled the room.  The walls all around the outside of the tables were windows made of glass; the view overlooking the entire city in sight of the ocean.  The city itself was alight with festivities, throngs of people moving like schools of fish on the main streets, noisy and alive with vitality, but the black background of a cloudless, winter sky was silent; its dark beauty was reflected in the gentle waves of the ocean, the ripples on the surface making the stars below flicker like candle flames in contrast to the steady torches that gleamed above.   In the hubbub of the festivities, Relena had the sudden impression that she had Heero were more like that sky and that ocean than the people who partied in the streets below.  She smiled to herself at the thought.

            They were recognized by the managing staff, or Relena was at least, and were escorted to their table before a line of patiently waiting customers.  Relena took Heero's arm and walked proudly beside him as they were seated on a rise just out of the innermost circle where they would get an excellent view through the windows and still retain some privacy.  It was the first time Relena had ever celebrated New Years with someone special and she was looking forward to the traditional kiss at midnight, hoping for one that made the one in the car like a raindrop beside a river.  

            Now that she had leisure to study him, Relena drank in Heero's company after his absence from her side.  Part of her wanted to hold him close, to feel the strong warmth of his body against hers.  Though she was looking forward to a night of dinner and dancing and pleasant conversation, part of her knew she was a quiet person and just wanted to return to his bed with the man she loved, to feel him naked and warm and attentive to her needs.  She couldn't help wondering if he had desired her over their separation as relentlessly as she had desired him.  The atmosphere was playing on her nerves and she  felt a little feisty and inventive, willing to please him in new ways if he was open to it, to take their time with the night and their bodies and give special heed to making one another feel beautiful.  

            They ordered champagne and then dinner, planning to drink slowly while they waited to be served.  Under the lights, Relena's skin glowed and the lotion she had rubbed into her arms and neck and shoulders glimmered faintly.  She couldn't tell if Heero was interested in her appearance; he was too good at hiding his thoughts and emotions behind a mask of serious propriety, as was she, but she thought he might be by the way he reached across the table to touch her hand when she purposefully left it lying available to his touch.  For herself, she watched avidly when he removed his coat and slung it carefully over the back of his chair, her eyes tracing the contours of his body beneath his dress shirt and the buttons that hid it from her.

            "I've had an interesting week while you were away," she said when he seemed disinclined to speak.  She unfolded her napkin and laid it gently in lap as he poured her a glass of champagne from the bottle he had ordered to commemorate the occasion. 

            "What did you do?" he asked.

            "Do you remember that proposal I worked so hard on over the summer?  The one that was rejected last week?"

            "Yeah." 

            "Well I think I've managed to bring it back to the floor.  Possibly in a few days if all goes well.  It's a good proposal."

            "I haven't read it."

            "I could tell you about it," she suggested.

            "You don't have to.  I trust you if you say it's good."

            She smiled and didn't mention it again because he didn't seem terribly interested in hearing about it, but it disappointed her.  Of course, she recognized that there was no reason why he should find politics and proposals terribly fascinating—it was boring work sometimes—but she couldn't deny that it was important to her and she would have hoped that he would at least have pretended curiosity.  However, the lack of it didn't upset her overmuch.  She couldn't expect him to be focused on her life and it seemed onerous to demand that he pretend to be. The night just seemed full of little unsatisfying details, but it was probably just her attitude.  She shouldn't read into things so much.

            Dinner came in a timely manner, but by then Relena was already starting to feel as if she had too much to drink.  Heero had taken only a few sips of his champagne, but Relena had been drinking hers steadily.  She smiled at him too often and her attention wandered a bit, but when her plate arrived, the addition of food in her stomach grounded her sufficiently.  It was a relief.  Relena had never drunk alcohol in Heero's presence before and the thought of his having to deal with her even in a slightly tipsy state was embarrassing.  Normally very controlled and reserved, it was disconcerting to think he might suddenly change his opinion about her. After all, she had a reputation of being graceful, eloquent and serious, especially in public.  Relena firmly set her champagne aside.

            "Heero," she asked as they ate.  "Do you think you'll do missions all your life? Do you have any other ambitions?"

            "I don't know," he said quietly, looking out the window at the ocean and the sky the way she had done, ignoring the celebrations in the street.  "I haven't really thought about it, planning my life I mean."  He turned back to her, his eyes striking her still in her seat and filling her heart with emotions she could not begin to identify.  "What about you?  What do you want?"

            "I want to make a difference in the world," she said, enormously pleased by the question without being able to identify why.  "I take my work seriously, though nothing terribly important is happening at the moment.  Still, I mean for this proposal to go through, and in a few months I will have to take another trip to the Colonies, perhaps for an extended amount of time."

            "That's good," he said.  "The Colonies are still unstable habitats.  They need to know that someone remembers that and is working for their benefit on the Earth."

            "I don't know if I can do it forever, though," she said tentatively.  "Not because I don't love it, but because I had envisioned other things for myself.  I would have to take time off to start a family for example, and it might be necessary to go back to school at some point."

            "I don't think anyone expects you to be at their disposal all the time," Heero told her.  "If you wanted to have children or get a degree, no one would stop you.  You worry about what people think too much."

            She lowered her eyes.  One day she would like to have children.  She had always imagined herself to be a mother someday, to be someone who read bedtime stories and packed lunches, to be someone who held a baby in her arms or a toddler on her knees.  Of course she didn't know what to expect of such an experience, but she had heard that it was a worthwhile one, and Heero was periodically involved in the picture, though she reprimanded herself for it.  It would be stupid to bring up anything like that, and she wasn't thinking about it in any eventual sense.  It was a fantasy, not a goal or an expectation, and there was a long way to go yet before she could really decide such things.  Still, she was curious.  Did Heero have any expectation of a family later in his life?  Perhaps just passing thoughts.

            She finished her dinner and watched Heero finish his with her hands folded in her lap.  Around them, the music was playing and other couples who had finished eating had taken to the dance floor.  She watched them from where she sat, sixteen year old kids who had spent too much on a night like this dancing beside couples who could hardly walk because they were bent with age, yet still managed to dance.  

            "Heero?" she whispered, and then thought better of it.  "Never mind."

            "What?"  He glanced up, looking away from the window at her face.  She was quiet a moment and his eyes narrowed, studying her almost predatorily. "Just say what you're thinking."

            She regarded him wryly, meeting the mystery in his eyes with amusment.  "I could say the same to you, you know."

            "Yeah." It was a simple statement without deference or disclaimer.

            A moment ticked by without speech as Relena struggled with her thoughts.  The music strummed her soul and Heero looked good to her.  She had always replayed in her mind her first, unfinished dance with him.

            "Do you want to dance?"

            He smirked. "Do _you_ want to dance?"

            She blushed and glanced away.  "Not if you don't want to.  I just thought it might be nice, since its New Years Eve and I'm all dressed up and everything.  I thought maybe you would want to."

            "We can dance if you want to dance," he cut in.

            He had a way of making her feel foolish, but even as she blushed he rose gracefully from his seat, laying his napkin down on his chair, and offered her his arm.   Feeling needy but gratified, she took his arm with a demure countenance and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.  No one glanced at them as they wove their way to a spot where they could move, but Relena suddenly felt beautiful as Heero brushed his hands across the black velvet of her dress and took her gently by the waist.  

            "Where did you learn to dance, Heero?" she asked as he wrapped her free hand in his.

            "It's not very hard."

            "I suppose not," she thought after a moment.  "Especially not for someone who is good at picking things up so easily."

            "You idolize me too much," he said flatly.  "You don't give yourself enough credit."

            "Maybe not," she laughed.  She had meant it in humility, and to pay him a compliment; it was only with him that she felt small, checking herself in order to do _him_ credit.  His answer made her feel awkward, but it also made her feel pleasant, and whatever he said about her idolizing him, he just seemed strong and capable to her.  As the music played, she stepped in a little closer, resting her chin on his shoulder and closing her eyes.  His fingers moved on the small of her back, rippling the material of her dress as he held her close against him.  Even dancing cheek to cheek, Heero Yuy maintained a shield of personal space around him in public, an emotional distance that she wasn't sure even she could break through.  Maybe it was only in her imagination that it existed, but his reaction to the way she touched his shoulder and back were almost stiff in comparison to the tenderness she displayed toward him, and she was one of the most solitary and serious people on the planet.  But she loved him.  She could see who Heero was underneath his barriers and defenses and found there the character of a man she respected above any other.  She couldn't suppress her desire to get him alone.  She wanted to be with him in their own private space, to listen to his heartbeat, to strip off his clothes and break down his defenses so that could get at the core of him.  Stubbornly, she buried her face into his shoulder, holding him to her as the music slowed to an anticipatory beat.

            The countdown to the New Year began a minute before the clock tolled.  Everyone stopped dancing, turning toward the big clock in the corner by the windows, the excitement in the room bubbling out in the words of the partners who laughed and chatted and teased each other into a tizzy.  She and Heero were silent, Relena resting her head on his shoulder as the countdown began.

            When the clock struck midnight, fireworks exploded just outside the windows in a showering burst of color and light.  Cheers rang out throughout the room and down in the city below and the couples in the room threw their arms around each other, women pulling men down by the shoulders and men lifting their girls up by the waists.  Heero hesitated, watching the other people with a darting gaze before turning and bringing his lips to Relena in a kiss that was sweet and beautiful, his hand trailing along the pale arch of her neck.  His other hand touched her cheek gently as he pulled away, smiling as if admiring a piece of artwork that pleased his eye.  She blushed self-consciously and they turned to watch the fireworks.

            There was no reason to stay when the excitement died down and the last flares of red and purple and gold burst before them.  Heero suggested that they try to get out before the crowds and she agreed.  They paid their bill and gathered their things. Heero slung his coat around her bare shoulders, enveloping her in warmth as they walked side by side to the car.  Relena felt as if she shimmered.

            In the parking garage, Heero unlocked the car door while she waited.  As she stood with his coat wrapped around her shoulders, she looked away from Heero briefly, just in time to recognized a familiar face.

            "Quatre?"

            Heero turned from the driver's door, blinking as the blonde head of Quatre Winner emerged from the elevator room.  Quatre saw them at almost the same moment and stopped in his tracks.  Relena was certain he hadn't been at their party.  He must have had an engagement elsewhere in this building.

            Quatre's face brightened into a wide smile.  "Heero!  Miss Relena!"

            "When did you come to Earth?" Heero demanded.  His tone of voice wasn't mean, just intense, the way it always was when he was thinking strongly.  Relena glanced at him, amused by the interaction.

            "I came for the holidays.  I've been on business in the Middle East, but decided to swing by here on my way home.  I was hoping to meet up with one or both of you."

            Heero grunted noncommittally.  

            "It's good to see you, Quatre," Relena said warmly.  "Are you going to be staying in the area for long?"

            Quatre sighed.  "No.  Unfortunately, I have a lot of work waiting for me back home.  But what about the two of you?  What brought you two together for New Years Eve?"

            Relena cast a glance at Heero, understanding suddenly that Quatre was not aware of their relationship.  As neither she nor Heero had had any contact with him, she supposed there was no reason he should, but she was surprised that the rumors hadn't reached him.  Either no one knew to tell him, or Quatre had just been busy lately and hadn't had time for visitors. 

            Heero stared at Quatre in silence for several moments.  He did not look at Relena when she looked at him expectantly, and after a moment she began to feel uneasy.  Was he not going to say anything?

            "We're having dinner," Heero said finally.  "Relena is my… girlfriend."

            The awkwardness with which he said it did not escape her, and for a moment Relena's world tipped alarmingly.  She stared at Heero, her boyfriend, and wondered why the title was difficult for him to say.  Was it because this was an old comrade of his and the moment was awkward, or did he feel awkward calling her that?   Come to think of it, she had never heard him say the word since he asked her to adopt it, and yet, there hadn't really been an occasion.  

            The look on Quatre's face was undisguised surprise at first, but then his face broke out into a grin and warmth flooded his eyes, cheering her with its sincerity. "That's wonderful!  I'm very happy for you both.  I guess I just haven't been keeping abreast of the doings of people lately.  Come to think of it, Trowa mentioned something about the pair of you awhile ago.  I guess I didn't catch on."

            Relena smiled back and pulled Heero's coat tighter around her shoulders. Heero must have said something to Trowa at some point, though Heero had not mentioned it to her.  She could tell by Quatre's expression that his happiness was genuine and it pleased her to have his approval.  

            "We should get going," Heero suggested, and Relena murmured her agreement though she wouldn't have minded talking to Quatre longer.  Even with Heero's coat, she was cold and it was a bit of a drive back to Heero's house, especially if there was traffic in the streets.

            "Well, it was good to see you!" Quatre called as Relena opened the passenger door.  She looked back at him over her shoulder as he waved, and shut the door when Heero started the car.  Quatre stood to the side as Heero pulled out of the garage, and Relena smiled at him until she could no longer see him.

            "You acted like you didn't want to talk to him," Relena said to Heero on the drive home.  "Hasn't it been awhile since you've seen each other?"

            "It's not like that," Heero said.  "He's not my friend the way you seem to think.  Quatre has a good head on his shoulders and we fought for the Colonies together, but there's not much more to it.  I didn't know what to say to him."

            She was quiet for a moment, contemplating that. 

            "What do you want to do now?" he asked in a hushed voice after a few minutes of silence.

            She turned to look at him.  "I thought we were going back to your place."

            "Okay."

             There was no question or hesitance in his tone, but both the question and answer puzzled her.  All she had been able to think about all night, all week, was the passion she had stored up for him after their unexpected separation and he seemed to be unconcerned by it.  It occurred to her that perhaps he was trying to be considerate of her feelings and not push her into anything even now that they were established as a sexually intimate couple.  After all, despite the week he had been gone, they had only had sex three times, and all of that in one weekend.  It just surprised her that he didn't appear as desperate as she felt to be alone together.

            Heero's house was freezing cold.  She shivered more in his living room than she had in the parking garage, clutching his coat around her shoulders as he obligingly stoked a fire in the hearth for her and apologized for having turned off the heat while he was out of town.  While Heero went to reconfigure the heat, Relena helped herself to a glass of wine to warm her blood.  She stood in the kitchen with the glass in her fingers when Heero returned, still dressed in her black velvet and heels.  She glanced at him coyly as he eyed her up and down.

            "You look uncomfortable," he said.

            "Do you have something else I can wear?"

            He nodded and strode with a purpose, but she followed him to his room, leaving the glass of wine half finished on the counter.  Perhaps she had seemed too reserved this evening, seeing him in a public setting after a week without him, making him dress up after a long trip and forcing him to dance with her.   She caught Heero just through the doorway, throwing her arms around his waist and pressing her face to his back to slow him down.  He stopped moving, seeming to hover as she held onto him, and slowly relaxed in her grip.

            "Heero," she whispered.  He turned around to face her, his hands grabbing onto her waist, his fingers digging into her hips.  "I missed you," she said seductively, and slowly lifted one arm around his shoulders, languidly drawing his head down to her so that she could kiss his neck and breathe warm air into his ear.  "I'm cold."

            His hands touched her bare shoulders and his head dropped to her chest, kissing her collarbone where her flesh was exposed to the air.  Her head tilted back, her eyes closing as his hands pushed the straps of her sleeves off her shoulders and his tongue tasted her skin.  Almost immediately she was warm, air escaping her mouth in breathless sighs of longing.

            Heero reached behind her back and pulled the zipper of her dress down, his other hand tugging the bodice below her breasts until only her nude strapless bra covered the top of her.  His arms went around her body, warming her in the cold, and his mouth traced a path from her collarbone to her cleavage until he was able to nuzzle his way under the top of her bra and then pull it down to her stomach with his teeth.

            "Are you still cold?" he whispered.

            A fire roared in the other room and she looked over her shoulder toward it before turning back to meet him in the eye.  It took him a minute to catch on, staring at her in the darkness before he abruptly left her where she stood to grab his comforter and an extra blanket from the bed.  With the front of her dress pulled down to her waist, she walked before him into the other room, removing her bra completely and kicking her shoes off into the kitchen.  While Heero spread the comforter on the floor before the fire, she took another sip from her glass of wine, savoring the sensual, inflaming taste of alcohol.

            Kneeling on the blanket, Heero took his shirt off while she watched, unbuttoning it until he could pull it off his shoulders.  His bare chest glowed golden in the firelight and she swallowed, tracing the contours of his body with her eyes.  He took off his pants while she approached.  Dropping to her knees beside him, she laid her hands on his arm, caressing his skin as she leaned forward to kiss his cheek in an innocent expression of her needs. 

            Before Relena could pull Heero's mouth to hers, he grasped her aggressively pushing her down on her back and leaning powerfully over her.  The muscles in his arms flexed under her hands, but he was busy undressing her, sliding his fingers under her dress and dragging it off her hips.  His fingers hooked under the edge of her underwear on his way down, pulling them off too.  He was already hard for her, stiff behind his briefs, which he removed when she touched his stomach, running her hands over his skin with longing eyes.  His eyes were closed, his face scrunched with sexual arousal as his mouth lowered to her breasts.  She closed her eyes too, laying her head back to the floor and breathing meaningless words as his tongue warmed first one breast and then the other.  His hands caressed her thighs, running from her knees to her hips until she parted them to make room for his body.

            "Heero…" she whispered.  She grasped his shoulders and moved her hips under and against him, needing further stimulation.  She gasped as his hand slipped around the back of one of her legs and teased her opening, his mouth still working at one of her breasts.  She wished he would say something, or look into her eyes so that she knew what he was thinking, but when he rubbed up against her clitoris, she stopped worrying about it.  Her hands grasped his shoulders, caressing the back of his neck urgently, her fingers digging into his hair.  His arousal pushed into her stomach and she said his name again as she touched it, dragging her fingers along the top to the tip.  Heero's eyes fluttered and he raised his head to bury his lips in her hair, pulling out of her hand and shifting his weight until he was pushing in between her thighs.  Relena braced herself against his entrance, smoothing her hands down his back as he slid into her.  She moaned his name with a broken voice, crying into his ear as he began a steady rhythm.  His teeth bit into her shoulder, soothed periodically by his tongue and kisses on her neck.  She stared at the ceiling, awash in sensations as he drove against her, and felt herself coming before she expected.  As she shuddered through a swift and sudden release, Heero's wordless petitions found their way into her ear. It took him longer to come, and she held onto him into the process, kissing his face and running her hands along his body, watching his expression tighten until he climaxed.

            When he collapsed over her, breathing deeply, she found herself thinking, thoughts cascading into her head from no source she could identify.  He never kissed her, she realized, and rarely looked at her face.  Even now he was lying half asleep beside her, face down on the blanket.

            "Heero," she whispered, touching his jaw with her fingers and turning his face toward her.  "Why won't you look at me?  Open your eyes."

            He opened them when she commanded him too, and they were blurred with tired tears, but as soon as he met her face he shut them.  She stared at him for a moment, half propped on her elbow, trying to sort through her confusion of thoughts and feelings that had been ricocheting like a pinball all night.  Or had it been longer.  She caressed his face, her chest tight with an anxiety she could not identify.

            "I'm just tired," he said, and shifted so that he could lay his head on her chest like a pillow.  "Are you still cold?"

            "No," she said.  He pulled the extra bit of blanket over their bodies, wrapping them in it in as intimate a way as she could conceive to desire, but she still could not see his face.  She didn't know what she was feeling anymore.

Please review! As a Christmas present for me? Please?


	20. Confessions of the Heart

I know.  It's been a very long time.  I had reasons! I'm writing three stories at once.  I applied to grad school.   I started a new relationship.  I've got homework…  Anyway, I've come back to it now.  And it's been an effort, let me tell you!  I had to rewrite this a lot.  I hope it's okay now, but if not… well tell me, but try to be specific!  Specifics are always good.  Please remember to review! ^_^ 

Desires of the Heart

Chapter 20

By Zapenstap

            Relena dreamed of Heero Yuy.  She had always dreamed of him, every once in awhile since she first laid eyes on him, but she hadn't had _this_ dream this since long ago, when her career as Vice Minister had been shaky and he had protected her elusively from the shadows.  Her dreams of late had been of the more casual sort; imagined conversations and doings and sexual acts where Heero was her boyfriend and their life together was simple and lovely and full of longing.  This dream was different, older, but she recognized it once it began.

            She emerged from some political gathering and entered a private room with red carpets and walls covered in expensive tapestries.  This time she was dressed in a gown with her hair done up, the way it had been when she was Queen of the World for a short time, only something more elegant and beautiful.  As the sound of applause from the grand hall faded, she found herself alone at last.  Or mostly alone.  Heero was there.  In the sense of dreams she knew that he was her bodyguard and his presence was expected.  But not only expected; also anticipated.  He was dressed in the uniform of a Romafeller soldier for some reason, perhaps because the building they were in reminded her of Romafeller.  She never remembered what she and Heero talked about once the door was shut.  It was the way he stood with his hands properly behind his back but his eyes all on her that she remembered.  She had the feeling that something had just happened between herself and the whole world but that it was Heero she sought, searching for his silent support of her.  They smiled at each other, a secret smile reserved for a private place and time like this to be shared between the two of them.

            There was never any uncertainty.  She closed the door and they were alone and that was what mattered.  She knew somehow that they had both been waiting for this moment, and once the door was closed she knew what they had been waiting for.  He would touch her cheek, caressing her skin with the back of his fingers, and she understood that he found her indescribably beautiful.  His eyes were dark pools of mystery that were somehow not mysterious to her, glinting of steel and strength and gentle reprove that was nevertheless tempered by a kindness and deep respect that was not at first discernable. Just as she would begin to smile—knowingly, not blushingly—he reached up to undo her hair from its constraints and cupped her face in his hands as the golden locks fell around his hands.  They would kiss as if it was something they were used to, not deeply, but intensely and thoroughly, as if the hours in public were spent hovering in anticipation for this time alone that they had to snatch and make use of together.  While the world outside celebrated Queen Relena Peacecraft—or Vice Minister Darilan; it varied—she and Heero would kiss and caress each other behind closed, private doors, oblivious to the praise that neither she nor he cared about.  His body would bend to hers, closing every available gap, holding her close, his hands and lips adoring her face and neck and shoulders.  The passion would heat up, each sparking off the other, the attentions growing more aggressive as their hands explored each other's bodies.  It was always when he started to remove her clothes and she his that she would wake, always with the knowledge that, though in the dream it wasn't unusual at all, somehow reality kept her from enjoying it.

            The floor in Heero's apartment was uncomfortable by morning.  Relena woke with her head cradled on a bunched-up corned of the blanket, the rest of it twisted around her body.  Sunlight streamed in through the windows and she shivered as she realized that she was alone.  Sitting up, she looked around for Heero, the man she had loved with a carefully censored passion for years, and was startled to spot him seated on the couch with his laptop on his knees, showered and dressed and apparently absorbed in whatever he was doing.  The fire in the hearth was out and the blankets strewn on the floor were rumpled and twisted about her legs and body.  She looked at Heero and felt resentment that the vague expectation of waking in his arms had been disappointed.  The covers fell off her as she rose naked to her knees, and when she moved Heero turn to look at her. 

"Good morning," she said unsteadily, and wasn't sure how she felt.  He couldn't have anticipated her expectations.

"Good morning," he replied.  There was something in his eyes, those piercing, steely eyes that caused her heart to drop out of her chest.  She couldn't read them at all.

            Her dream flitted through her head, toying with her heart and memory.  She wondered why she had had that dream last night when she hadn't had it in so long.  She used to dream of Heero in that way when she was still pining for him, long before he had actually called on her and long after she had given up that he ever would.  Now that she living a dream come true, she was still dreaming.  Why?  The look in his eyes didn't make her feel the same as it had in the dream.  Asleep, she knew his thoughts and actions before he performed him, her emotions swelled until her blood burned in her veins and her head suddenly became so light that she struggled to find solid ground.  Awake, the look he shot her way plummeted into her stomach, like a block of lead hitting pavement, his leveling, assessing stare catching her in her nakedness and exposing her under some ultra violet light.  Her body felt heavy, like iron chained to the earth.

            He turned his eyes away, his fingers clicking against the keyboard in an otherwise silent room.  She tried to smile, shooing away the uneasiness that lingered from her dream, reminding herself that she couldn't expect real life to be like her fantasy.  Perhaps something was upsetting him. She wrapped the comforter around her body as she rose to her feet, and the smile she forced to grace her face snatched at her lighter emotions and held them fast, somewhat settling the sick, heavy feeling in her stomach and dispelling her darker feelings.  Heero looked up again as she approached and when she smiled he smiled back, adding to her confusion.  If something was wrong, why would he smile at her so easily?  She couldn't think of anything that could be wrong, or at least not anything that she had done wrong, and if it was something else, how was she supposed to guess?  She didn't know what to think.  

            Determined to show him how she felt about him at least, she leaned over to kiss his temple, caressing the side of his face in a gesture that was affectionate and caring and honest.  The warmth of his body comforted her, the thought of being so close to someone she loved so much easing her heart.  When she pulled away that same look in his eyes assessed her even more sharply.  It smote her. 

            "What are you thinking?" she asked him.

            "Nothing," he said, and looked at her so intently that she suddenly had the feeling that he was forcing himself to look at her.  "Do you want breakfast?"

            Relena found herself taking a shower while he rose from the couch to make her toast, laying his laptop aside to accommodate her wishes.  She remembered the fantasy she had had about having sex with Heero in the shower, the passion she had felt for him dominating any embarrassment.  But now the thought was wrong somehow. As she washed her hair and cleansed the sweat from her body, her uneasiness grew.  She reached for the soap blindly, her thoughts boiling.  _Was_ something wrong?  Perhaps it was just a bad morning that would clear up later in the day, or maybe Heero was bothered by something that had nothing to do with her or their relationship.  She wanted to ask, but it was hard to talk to Heero sometimes.  Was that bad?  Shrugging her shoulders, she pushed the thoughts back, decided to give the situation time and see what came of it.  She felt sometimes that Heero needed time.

After her shower, she dressed in what she had worn the day before, sitting at the table across from her lover in a rumpled evening dress and wet hair.  She felt awkward, but it wasn't because of her hair or clothes.  Heero barely spoke three sentences to her.  Even as he assisted her with breakfast, pouring her orange juice and setting a plate with buttered toast and jam before her, he seemed to avoid looking at her, as if his thoughts were turned on more important matters elsewhere.  Her mouth opened and closed several times, but no words escaped her lips.  

"You have to go to work today, right?" he said as he sipped on a cup of tea, meeting her eyes in a glance that didn't hold for long.

"Yes," she replied.

He nodded.  "Do you want me to drive you home so you can get ready?"

"If you would."  

How else was she going to get there?  He had driven her straight here from the restaurant last night.  She forced down a flash of irritation.  She had to go to work.  If she became angry now it would bother them both all day until there was really time to talk about it.  There wasn't time now.  So instead of making an issue out of it—it was dumb anyway—she forced her lips to spread over her teeth in a smile, as if by sweetness and sheer will she could bridge this mysterious gap that had widened between her and Heero.  Once she smiled she even felt better.  Emotions were like that sometimes.  "Thank you," she said.

Heero eyed her oddly as he cleared the table.  For a moment, she suspected that he knew she was angry, but he didn't say anything.  As he cleaned up, she made sure she had all of her things, waiting quietly for him by the door. 

When Heero walked her to the car, he opened the door for her.  She almost wished he hadn't; it just didn't make much sense to do it now.  The genteel effort seemed to clash with his uncommunicative behavior and it confused her.  She just wanted his thoughts.  She wanted honesty.  It seemed strange to wish for less attention and fewer displays of romantic clichés, but although those things were nice, without the thoughts and feelings behind them, she couldn't trust them.  

In the car, Heero didn't say much more than he had at breakfast, but he seemed to notice her edginess and reached for her hand to hold while he drove.  His fingers curved gently around her palm and she took a breath as her grip tightened around his hand instinctively, the sudden fluttering in her stomach betraying a host of conflicted emotions she fought to keep low.  When he caressed her hand soothingly, she smiled at him, relieved by the contact, and had the impression that he knew something was wrong, though he didn't speak.  Perhaps it was silly of her to be so upset when nothing had happened.  It might, after all, be something about the mission that he couldn't talk about.  Maybe it was just her attitude that was making something negative out of Heero's silence and introversion when Heero had _always_ been quiet and introverted.  Slowly, she relaxed, holding his hand as she began to talk a little about what she expected from her day today and then asked when she could see him again.

"I have some things to take care of tonight," he said slowly.  

She was disappointed, but tried not to show it.  "Like what?"

"Some follow up work from the mission.  It's not very interesting."

"I don't mind just being over while you do it," she said.  "We shouldn't have to entertain each other all the time."

He glanced at her sideways.  "It'd be easier if you're not there," he said.  "And it might take me awhile."

She fell silent, pondering that.  It was true that it was easier to get work done alone; she knew from personal experience.  She ought to just respect his request and entertain herself for a night.  After all, she had her own work to do and before the mission she had Heero had been spending most every day together.  There was a lot of work she could use this time to catch up on and it had felt rather good to do her best job while Heero had been away before.  "All right," she replied.  

He let her out at her doorstep and waited until she walked up the front of her steps and into her house.  She ought to have brought a separate change of clothes, she thought ruefully.  The memory of Heero's hands and lips on her skin was intensified when entering the front door of her home in what she had been wearing the night before, especially something as inappropriate as an evening gown.  As she stepped inside and watched her boyfriend drive away, she felt strangely undignified.  To anyone who had seen her, it would seem obvious where she had been last night and likely what she had been doing.  Well, she would feel better once she changed for work.

 As the morning was lengthening, she had to hurry.  She hadn't quite realized how late it was.  It was back to the old routine again, the one that had taken precedence since Heero had entered her life and taken over her time as well as her heart.  She liked giving her time to him.  She wanted to spend every moment with him, but she laughed at herself as she fumbled for a suit and matching shoes while watching the clock with a frantic eye.  She dressed quickly and styled her hair wet, once more unable to spend the time getting ready that she had had before Heero took over her life.  It amused her somewhat that the manifestation of a boy with all the accompanying social, mental, emotional and physical pleasures could so thoroughly possess her that she would sacrifice aspects of her job for him.  After all, her work was more important to her than anything, important to the whole world, and though she wasn't slacking by way of results (she was doing rather well on the panels) her effort was not executed with the same enthusiasm she had employed when she was single.  There had been a time in her life when she wished that Heero would rescue her from the stressful demands of her job, or would help her with it like in her dream, but now she just wondered what had happened to all of her energy. 

Once she was dressed, she stowed her make-up in her purse, hoping to touch up over the essentials on her way over.  Her briefcase was still in the car so there was no need to worry about that.  She'd already eaten breakfast.  Did she need anything else?  She spun in a circle in the living room, heeled shoes twisting the strands of the carpet.  No, there was nothing else.  Grimacing at the position of the second hand on the clock, she fished her keys out of her purse and ran out to her car.

            At work, she found herself thinking about Heero again.  

Was there something wrong that had led to the strange awkwardness between them last night and this morning?  She thought back on the night, trying to pinpoint some particular gesture or phrase that would offer up a clear clue in explaining Heero's actions.  It frustrated her that she couldn't stop thinking about it, trying to puzzle it out.  It used to not matter to her why Heero thought or acted the way he did because it was enough that she could go on thinking of him.  But that was before she had a claim to him.  She loved him then, but it was different now.  She needed him.  Her hands froze on her desk, fingers clenching at the marble.  Now that they were together, she wanted something from him—from them—that she couldn't quite define, something reminiscent of her dream.  She wanted to be part of his life.   That was what it meant to love someone.  

So why was she thinking so anxiously?   If something was bothering him, it bothered her too.  If she was not just panicking about nothing, then there had to be some particular thing that was wrong.

            Hours ticked by as she sat with her pencil tapping against the desk, wondering what Heero's mission had been about.  She had sensed a definite change him after those few days they had spent apart.  He had told her that he wanted to keep her separate from the chaos that was the battle he couldn't stop fighting, but if something bad had happened, oughtn't he want to seek comfort and solace in her company?  Talk to her about it?  It hurt her to think that Heero would not share with her something that was bothering him.  Did he think he was strong enough to endure his troubles without having to burden her?  Hadn't she communicated often enough that she wanted to worry about him?  To care about him?  What could be so horrible that he would keep it from her?

            It occurred to her in a fleeting thought that maybe there was another girl, but she rejected the idea with a rueful smile.  She didn't have suspicions of those kinds with Heero.  It didn't make sense with someone like him.  She shuffled papers as she thought about it, resuming her work as she tried to conjure up an image of a girl that Heero would like more than her, but she couldn't form a picture in her mind, and even if there was such a girl, she couldn't imagine someone so exact and straight-forward as Heero playing cheating games and jeopardizing her heart.  What other kind of woman would Heero find interesting enough to do something so out of character?  Maybe someone who shared more of his interests?  Guns and mobile suits and battles and things?  Maybe, but she didn't really think Heero wanted a girl who only reminded him of the things he wanted to forget … the only things he knew.  No.  There was something troubling about Heero's behavior, but she didn't think it was another woman.   She chuckled as she read over a document assigning materials to a resource satellite.  If it was another woman, she pondered, it gave her the right to be angry.  She almost wished he _was_ cheating on her. 

            She set the document down, shocked.  Why in the world would she wish for such a thing?  The emotions that rose up in her gut when she imagined something like that actually happening were decidedly unpleasant.  Jealousy rankled, an unfamiliar sensation that made her pause with her pen poised just to analyze it.  She had a fierce desire to hold Heero close to her and lash out at whoever it was that might take him away.  But something in her wanted to hurt him too.  From her imaginings she felt betrayed, horrified, and so furious that a number of passionate speeches arose in her head, assaulting verbal abuse that would drive any guilty man to his knees.  She imagined shouting at Heero, or speaking in a cold, justified tone that reeked of underlying anger.  She enjoyed imagining his hard, impassive expression changing from smug and sure to surprised and angry, and then to remorseful and guilty.  It was ridiculous, of course.  She didn't really think Heero would behave that way even if he was guilty, and getting angry had never been natural to Relena unless the issue was important enough to be righteous about.  She could fight Romafeller when lives were at stake, but she couldn't argue with her mother or her staff or anyone close to her.  She always collapsed in the backlash, her diplomatic nature more suited to smoothing over intense emotions by enduring assault and surprising her opponent with mature kindness, thereby undercutting their anger and instead using her voice to talk rationally about the root of the problem.  She was a peacemaker by nature and by trade; religious principles and an austere upbringing forced her to assess a problematic situation objectively and working it out diplomatically.  

            Relena's fingers tightened on the pen she held in her hand as the contract on her desk blurred under her eyes.

But sometimes… sometimes she wanted to get angry, to lash out wildly with her emotions and not be afraid that those who knew her normally would look at her as if she had changed into some other, evil version of herself.  Was that why the idea of having something to get _really _angry about appealed to her?  If Heero cheated she would have a good reason to rage at him and to expect him to try and smooth _her_ over, something which never, in all her memories, had ever happened.

It was an irrelevant speculation.  Heero wasn't cheating on her.

            Her anger was unjustified and irrational, as was usually the case whenever she was sensitive, and the reason she kept her emotions in check.  With a sigh, she let the fantasy go.   Maybe Heero was acting strangely, but she didn't know why.  If she was honest with herself, she didn't really want to discover that it was because Heero had chosen another girl over her.  Of course not. The feelings she had imagined were bad enough in fantasy; in real life, they would tear her soul to shreds.  If she felt in time that something was really wrong, she would just have to confront Heero about it, but she could do so fairly and calmly, without accusation or excitement.  Diplomatically.

            She couldn't dismiss her uneasiness, but she didn't dwell on it either, or tried not to.  She had work to do.  Anxiety was ever-present when her thoughts wandered Heero's way, but she finished what she was about, if in a more determined fashion than usual.   Her mind was a mess of unsorted feelings.  She didn't really want them sorted. She just wanted them to go away.  But the wheels kept turning and the imaginings kept coming.  At half-passed two, Relena threw her pen down and covered her eyes with her hand.  Tears wet her fingers.  She didn't know what was wrong with her.  She gasped, her breath heaving, fighting back a sob that came from nowhere.

            "What's wrong with me?" she whispered aloud, and wiped her eyes determinedly, blinking as she shook her head and tried to dislodge her thoughts.  This was ridiculous. Was she premenstrual or something?   Blinking, she shook her head, hoping to shake her thoughts away, and spent a few minutes combing her hair and refreshing her face.  Once she felt poised again, she went back to her documents, trying not to be distracted, but it was almost useless trying to work.  She couldn't focus.

As soon as she could get away, she went home, canceling her last meeting of the day.  One of the secretaries blinked as she saw her leaving and Relena wondered what her face looked like.  Taking a deep breath, she pushed her way out of the revolving doors and half ran to her car.

 She went straight home, seeking the solace of her personal space.  For awhile she wandered around her house in a state of agitation, taking deep breaths and dismissing wave after wave of unconfirmed anxieties as flights of fancy.  She reasoned to herself.  Something was definitely wrong, but she needn't be weeping about it.  It could be something small, something to do with the mission, or Heero's personal feelings about himself or the world or any number of things.  Perhaps he wanted to talk about something troubling and just didn't know how.  Why was she crying about something she didn't even know was a problem?  This was not like her. 

            To get her mind off of it, she made herself dinner and a whole pot of tea.  She drank it alone, drumming her fingers on the tabletop, wondering if Heero would call.  He didn't.  She had no messages from the day and as the sun set and darkness washed over the earth, still no phone calls.  There was no reason to expect a phone call and after awhile she wondered why she didn't just call him if she wanted to talk to him so bad.  For some reason, it seemed difficult.

            "What's wrong with you, Relena?"

            Getting up, she lifted the phone with fingers that felt weak and dialed a number she had memorized, but Heero didn't answer.   She listened to the rings until the message machine beeped at her.  For a second she panicked, not having thought about what she would say if she got his machine.  She didn't want to say she was upset on the phone, or even that she wanted to talk.  That sounded too ominous.  Smiling, she cleared her throat, hoping that she would not sound distraught.

"Hello, Heero?  It's Relena.  I know you're busy tonight, but I just wanted to… well I wanted to talk to you, but it's not that I mean to bother you.  I mean, um…  Well, just call me back.   I don't know where you are right now, but…"  She paused, not even sure now why she had called.  She rarely stumbled when she made speeches, but leaving a message was different.  It was awkward and strange and she asn't sure what her point had been.  She should just end it quickly.  "Well, I guess I'll call you tomorrow since I know you have other things to do.  I'm sorry for bothering you. I'll…" She sounded like an idiot!  "I'll call you tomorrow."

            Hanging up the phone, she stared at the receiver for awhile as if it were a snake, her fingers cold on the edge of the desk.  God, that was horrible.  She had never left such a horrible message in her life.

            Blinking, she turned away, determined to forget about Heero until he called her back, whenever that might be.

            She refused to sit here moping all night.  

Relena left half of her tea to grow cold in her mug and grabbed her purse from the couch, deciding she might as well go out to the video store and rent a movie.  Watching movies wasn't something she usually did, but involvement in some sort of story would be welcome.  Her television was located in a little room with no windows, a place she had set aside where she could retreat when she wanted to be alone and not think about work. She rarely used it.  When she did, she usually read, pulling a book from the case adjacent to the couch in front of the television.  Today, she didn't think she could focus enough to enjoy a book.  She wanted to engage in something that required no effort.

The video store had quite a selection, especially for someone who rarely watched movies and had seen very little of anything that had been filmed in the past several years.  She chose an adventure with a romance subplot and settled into her television room with nothing but a movie and a blanket.  The film was neither realistic nor terribly exciting, but the plot was easy to follow and the characters were decently portrayed.  She hoped it would calm her down and remind her that real life was not like the movies, that she shouldn't expect Heero to offer her the world with a kiss and a bouquet of flowers.  At first it seemed to work, the story drawing her somewhere else, allowing her to escape.  But as she watched the film by herself, in a darkened room where the television emitted the only sounds, she found herself strangely disturbed.  

"There was this girl," the male lead narrated, "that I just couldn't leave alone."

            They were just lines, and not even very original ones, but Relena felt her breath catch and her heart thud dully in her chest.  It was not a sad movie, but she felt depressed.  She noted the nuances of the romance plotline, ignoring its fallacies and concentrating instead on the subtle cues that she suddenly wished were true with all her heart.  The heroine's inner, independent strength and the hero's besotted determination to win her affection pulled at something inside her.  Even as she thought to herself that this was not real life, that she shouldn't base her expectations on a movie script, she felt there was something in the exchanges between the leads, the way their eyes caught and held each other spellbound, the minute gestures and touches, and the simple comfort of knowing that someone loved you, that she _wanted_.  

            She thought of Heero and a thought rose up in her mind like a shadow seeping through a small crack, engulfing her in a veil of partial darkness.  The thought came unbidden and unwanted, but it came powerfully, loud and harsh and blackly blindly.  She forced it ruthlessly down.  Her fingers clutched at the blanket around her shoulders, staring at the screen with a lost, sinking feeling in her stomach.  She felt sick and wasn't really sure why.

She turned to her memories, sifting and rummaging through a pile of buried emotions so that she might understand the underlying situation and deal with it.   She pondered her New Years dinner with Heero yesterday, remembering how he had been cavalier about her work and recounting that that had bothered her. She recalled also the conversation in the parking lot with Quatre when he had stumbled over the word "girlfriend," and remembered a sense of hurt that had overtaken her before she dismissed it.  She thought about their return to Heero's apartment where they made love for the first time after a long absence and the way it had felt half-hearted.  Heero had been distant, not bothering to call her until the very last moment before their date, refusing to meet her eyes when they were physically intimate, not talking to her about his deepest problems and now, this morning, practically ignoring her.  She thought back to how she had lost her virginity to him just before his mission, and the lack of communication that had surrounded that incident. 

Why was he being so cold to her?

            A tear escaped her eye, moistening her lower lashes before it fell through to wet her cheekbone and slide down to her chin.  Relena did nothing to halt its progress.  She looked at her reflection in the television screen as the credits rolled, taking stock of her heavy expression, her obvious depression, and wondered why she was experiencing these emotions.  Her fingers were numb.  Her heart thudded slowly.  But her mind was busy recycling memories like a broken record or an old film projector, the images cast upside down, backward and silent onto a flimsy screen.  

She realized suddenly that she had no friends to call, no family members who she could talk to.  Relena Peacecraft or Vice Minister Darilan was not supposed to have problems like this, sensitivities like this.  She was not supposed to get angry or feel needy and lonely and betrayed.  She was not supposed to make mistakes or exhibit weakness.  As lonely and isolated and righteous as she was, there was somebody to call, no shoulder to cry on.  She was like a lighthouse at sea, and the ocean was violent now.  Why was she this way, so miserable and needy and desperate?  How had she come to be like this?  This wasn't her.  She didn't want to be this person.

Wrapping a blanket around her shoulders, she stood up and wandered back into the kitchen, pouring herself another cup of tea and sipping on it without sugar.  She knew what she had to do, but her mind would not wrap firmly around the idea.  She didn't want to talk to Heero.  She didn't want him to see her like this, or to feel stupid again for having a reaction like this.  Sipping silently at her mug, she listened to the dead silence in her house, devoid of all life except for the flicker of her own movements.  Was it snowing outside?  She thought she saw a glimpse of flakes.

Relena brought her tea into the living room and sat out her couch to look out at the streets, blonde-brown hair streaming around her shoulders and tickling the bare skin of her forearms.  She sat with her feet tucked under her and a blanket thrown over her knees.  Her attention was detached, her eyes staring dully at the light sprinkling of snow that had fallen on the grass overnight, looking past the outside world as if it were a mirror by which her thoughts were reflected inward.  Sharp winter air seeped through the paned glass and chilled her skin, but she hardly felt the cold.  

She wanted to fill her insides with something other than the heart-rending, soul shrinking dread that beat against her heart.  The snow intensified as she watched, little flurries of glistening flakes coating bark and tufts of grass like silver glitter. It melted in the street, turning to rain, and what remained was like a softer frost. Another day it would have been beautiful, but Relena could find no joy in it now, the wonders of nature falling flat on her senses, like a struck bell stuffed with cotton to deaden the clang.  

            "Heero," she whispered, but the sound dropped into empty space, addressed to nothing and nobody but herself.  She bit her lip to quell a surge of emotion and fight down another flood of wasteful, weak tears, but dread accompanied the word she had spoken.  Lowering her forehead to the back of the couch, Relena settled her face against her crossed arms and shivered, tears leaking into her wrists where they could not be seen by outsiders.   She knew she had to speak to Heero, if just to relieve her mind of the incessant dread.  The shadows in her mind were like the wings of some black-dark creature caressing her face on either side, just out of sight of her eyes.  She could not live like this, depressed like this, lost in the dark without any kind of certainties.   

            The phone rang.

            She started at the sound, sitting up suddenly, swinging her head away from the window and to the deeper, lonely interior of her house.  Tottering to her feet, she made her way down the kitchen where her phone hung on the wall.  Her fingers brushed against the receiver and she hesitated before she picked it up with hands that shook slightly, closing her eyes and gathering her strength. 

            "Hello?" she said.

            "Relena.  Hi."

            "Hi," she said in a whisper, and knew that she couldn't pretend anymore.

            "I received your message.  What are you doing?"

            She put her hand to her forehead and leaned against the wall.  His tone was normal, the way it always was when he wanted to spend time with her, asking what she was doing so that they could come up with something to do together.  Biting her lip, she fought down her emotions, confusion with fear and love and anger.  Why was it so changeable?  If something was wrong, why didn't he tell her?  Why had a movie upset her so much?  Or was she imagining depression just to torture herself?  Either way…

            "Heero," she whispered, and had to stop before tears choked up her words.

His silence was ominous.  She hated what she was about to say, but she couldn't think of another way to say it.

"I want to talk to you," she said, and was proud at how normal her voice sounded, how calm and collected she felt. 

            "About what?"  His tone was dark but different.  He wasn't annoyed like he seemed to be when she was irritated that he had neglected to pay her a compliment.  It was just dark, almost… concerned.  "Relena, what's wrong?"

            That was what confused her: the ambiguity, the hot and cold, the attention and detachment that pulled her two different ways.  She couldn't process his feelings as well as her own. She needed to just ask, as hard as it was to talk to him.  But not over the phone.

            "Can I come over?" she asked, and it was barely a whisper, seeping out of her like a tired, aching sigh.  "Are you busy?"

            "No," he said, and she sensed kindness in his suddenly caring tone, a confused and surprised and almost emotional reaction.  "Do you want me to pick you up?"

"No," she declined.  "I'll drive."

They hung up without further words.

She made herself pretty, partly out of habit, but somewhat because she wanted to know that she was beautiful.  She was surprised to feel herself already more relaxed.  Was it just the lack of communication that was making her feel so insecure?  Perhaps her mistake had been in bottling up her irritation and disappointment all this time.  Maybe if she had been more honest and less accommodating, she wouldn't have come to depression and she and Heero could have worked things out a little sooner.  She could have been happy.

            Driving helped her relax.  She was able to think more carefully now that she had determined to do something.  It felt good to be proactive, to make decisions for herself. 

            She scrubbed tears from her eyes.  "I don't care anymore about upsetting you, Heero," she murmured to herself, and bit her lip.  "I love you."  

            It sounded different said out loud, but she felt her heart echo the sentiment and took a deep breath.  First, she wanted to hear what he had to say.  It had been so hard to keep silent all this time. 

            She drove to the sound of her thoughts, the music turned off and the heat a little too warm.  Tears clung to her cheeks, the salty residue on her face make her skin itch, but no more fell.   Parking her car on the street outside Heero's house, she climbed out with nothing but the clothes she wore and without a firm idea of what she wanted to say.   She wondered if she ought to have dressed up more, but perhaps this was better.  Sometimes she felt like she did that too often, and though her hair was combed and her face looked decent, she was dressed casually.  If Heero didn't like her as she was then he simply didn't like her and that was that.  She had tried to be nice and sacrifice her bad habits and nasty reactions in favor of more mature responses, but she was tired of that.   She didn't want to change who she was.  She didn't even think it was possible.

            She knocked on the door and waited for Heero to open it, a little nervous and shaky, her mind crammed with how "I love you" would sound next to "I'm upset" and if she could really convey either appropriately.  Years of stage performances guided her to looking calm even if she didn't feel it, and she hoped that Heero would see the Relena everyone knew in her eyes when she confronted him.  At least she was done crying.

            Heero answered the door casually, wearing that dark green color he favored so much.  With that unruly hair falling in sharp angles over his eyes and the lithe, dangerous posture of a man who could kill suddenly if the situation arose, he looked more like Heero now than at any time she had seen him in months.  There was a demeanor about him that was sharp and subtle at once, a deadly weapon belied by its shape.  But underneath, lurking somewhere in his eyes and the smoothness of his skin was the perplexing kindness that had captured her since she first laid eyes on him.  

            That kindness broke through her more than his power ever could.

            "I…" she began, and felt the tears rise to her eyes in a sudden upwelling that she couldn't stop.  She clasped a hand over her mouth.

            Heero's expression changed, the glint in his eyes softening, lips parting as he reached for her.  His hand grasped her elbow and tugged gently.  She allowed herself to be pulled inside, feet stumbling over the threshold.  Heero did not move back to give her space so she found herself stepping close against him.  The heat from his body washed over her, a musky scent of a male clouding her senses as the door shut behind her.  Heero's hands wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her into a rough hug that was awkward yet tender.  She half-fell against his chest, almost tripping into him, and her stiffness drained out of her as he held her the way she had longed to be held for weeks.  As her muscles relaxed, she began to tremble.

            "What's wrong?" he said.  His voice quiet, maybe even worried.  

            She pulled away from him.  "I need to talk to you," she said, and though her voice was firm, she held onto his shirt with the one hand, fingers fisted around the material and unwilling to let go.  "Not in the doorway."

            Heero led the way to his bedroom and she hugged herself as she followed him, keeping her eyes fastened to his back between the shoulder blades.  He turned at the door, ushering her in, his eyes following her with a bit of a worried, wondering crinkle.  She paced across the floor and sat on the edge of his bed, refusing to meet his eyes.  Her gaze strayed to the sheets and pillows, remembering the way Heero's naked skin felt against hers, the way Heero's hands and mouth had explored her body in a way she had always dreamed of.   For a moment, she felt choked and suffocated, her heartbeat racing as he sat facing her with a patient, steely gaze.  

            His expression was difficult to read. All she could see at first was the contours of his body and the steely power of his eyes.  She wanted to touch him, to trace her hand down his chest, to push down on the bed and wrap her arms around him, to feel him hold her, his hands caressing her skin and his dark voice speaking sweet nothings in her ear.  She wanted intense love behind his silences, understanding and trust and reverence for her in his eyes.  She wanted everything that was in the stories and more.  With Heero… It was indescribable, the way he made her feel.  She wanted support and communication.  She wanted the dream.

            Looking at him, she opened her mouth, daring herself to speak as he watched her patiently.  His eyes opened her heart like a pair of pliers.   He could force himself inside her soul whatever she wanted, where he could hurt her to death if he wanted.  Her heart lurched in her chest and she bit her lip, hands clenching into fists at her sides.  She wasn't sure she could do this. 

            "Relena," he said reassuringly.  She closed her eyes as his hand brushed against the side of her head, wiping her hair out of her eyes and tucking it behind her ears.  It was such a loving gesture that she trembled, shaking harder now than she had at the front door, suddenly cold and nervous in a way she had never been before, not even when speaking in front of a crowd of thousands.  This feeling she had for him, this love that threatened to shatter her bones and boil her blood terrified her.  She was afraid of him in a way she had never been afraid of mobile suits or politicians or even the destruction of the Earth.  She fought just to breathe, struggled to get her words out.

            "Heero," she gasped.  "I've been thinking and I…"  This was so much harder in real life than in her head.  Her eyes could not turn away from his.  They bore too deep and saw too much.  Her visions of powerful speeches that would leave him shamed and repentant washed away like a flashflood cleared the riverbank.  His gaze was like thunder, his eyes the storm.  But he was not angry.  His stare cut deep because it was soft; as soft as she had ever seen it.  No matter how angry or justified her motives, she could not fight her emotions under that gaze; they tore her down like a splintered fence.  Tears came, unbidden and unwanted, thankfully blurring her vision and the sight of his face.  She couldn't hold them back, but she managed to talk through them, to lift herself up elegantly, her words coming out smoother than she could scarcely have hoped.  "The way you've been behaving lately has got me thinking," she said.  "Something is wrong.  I know it.  You've been cold and aloof and I can't stop wondering what has changed.  Tell me what is going on."

            For moment, his face looked as if it had been smashed with a hammer.  Her tears dried instantly as he blinked the expression away and stood up, arms straight at his sides and fists clenched.

            "Heero," she said, and stood up with him, reaching for his arm.  "Heero, talk to me please.  I just want to know what is going on."

            "No, you don't."

            He refused to look at her and she could barely understand him.  His words were muttered low, humming like the grumbles of the earth in the deep places.  She could tell by the way his arm felt under her fingers how tense he was, his muscles clenched tight.  She swallowed, smoothing her hand over his skin.  "Heero, I'm not afraid of your life."

            He closed his eyes.  "It's not that."

            He shook her off, a quick jerk of his arm causing her hand to spring open.  He strode past her before she had time to react, out of the room to somewhere else in the house.  Relena followed, surprised at how fast he had moved.  "Don't run away," she said.  "We need to talk."

            "Relena, please," he said.

            She found him out by the back door, letting his Labrador back inside from where he had been sitting patiently at the window.  Heero removed to the couch with the Lab at his heels, sitting on the edge and scratching the dog's head.  Although Relena was fond of the dog, she sensed that Heero was using the animal to avoid her.

            "Heero, I know you have a habit of just not responding when you don't want to talk about something, but I can't do that.  Please tell me what is going on.  What happened on the mission?"

            She knew she had pushed a button by the way he flinched, shifting with agitation.  

            "I don't understand why you are so secretive," she said. "If your commander told you not to speak of the mission then tell me that, but don't say it wasn't dangerous if it was and don't lie to me or evade my questions! I know you haven't done field work in awhile. What happened?  What changed?  You didn't call.  You've behaved strangely."

            "I told you," he said, and she could hear the steel in his voice, though it did not frighten her.  "I don't want to mix you up with that part of my life."

            She clenched her teeth shut to keep from saying something less than kind.  "I want to be mixed up in your life.  It's a big part of your life.  If the war still bothers you, I understand.  Just, please, talk to me."

            He was silent and she responded with silence, refusing to move until he spoke.  He stared straight ahead with Ted's head on his knee, scratching the dog's ears inattentively as he stared at the wall, or perhaps into the past.  Relena waited, taking small, quick breaths, trying to gather her thoughts.  There were specific things she wanted to tell him dissatisfied her, but his inattentiveness accounted for much of it, and that's what she sought to understand now.  Whatever had happened…

            Heero was upset.  She wasn't sure how she knew, but she could tell that something inside him was breaking down.  His clockwork efficiency jolted and stopped, catching on emotions he was careful not to show, emotions he carefully hid for fear of their power over him.  She knew that.  She wasn't sure how she knew, but she knew.

            "The mission wasn't anything," he said stoically.  "We gathered information. We worked in teams.  There wasn't much risk."

            She closed her eyes.  "Heero, that doesn't explain anything."

            When she opened her eyes, he was standing, walking slowly to the back window.

            "If you're afraid of something…" she began quietly.  "Heero, I want to hear about it.  The way I feel about you…" He turned his head to look at her and she had never seen his face look quite like that, almost like he was in pain. He looked beautiful to her, the slope of his neck to his shoulders wonderfully attractive and the discernment in his eyes an image that would never fade in her memory.  Her words became garbled, her heart thumping so loud it hurt in her chest.  "What it feels like to be near you…  It's too hard like this.  It's hurtful.  You have to tell me something about what happens in your life, about how you feel."  

            "Relena, don't," he said.  She leaned toward him and her hands leaped to his face, caressing his cheek as he stared at her with hollow eyes.

            "I love you," she whispered. 

            He closed his eyes and she was startled to see him react so much, pulling his head away from her hand and seeming to sink backward.  Momentarily he recovered, straightening in a slender blade of a young man.  What caught her was the way he pulled away, his breathing regularizing as if he was going through some sort of training exercise.  A feeling of dread formed in her stomach as he looked at her.

            "Heero…" she began.

            "It wasn't the mission," he snapped, and his sharp, exact tones cut her off like a knife.  His voice was so cold that she almost tripped.  His expression was as hard as rock, but his shoulders began relaxing as he spoke, as if a great weight was being lifted off his chest. "I didn't call you because I didn't miss you."

            She stared at him, not comprehending.  Quite suddenly she realized why that movie had made her cry.  She understood why she had dreamed last night.  The reason he didn't want to look in her face and forgot to compliment her, the reason conversation was so awkward and devoid of passion…it all became clear.  It was as if a shroud had been lifted from her eyes.   In lieu of her own emotions, she was able to see a map of Heero's thoughts, an unfamiliar pattern slowly becoming clear.  Her own wishes had clouded her understanding, but when her mind was devoid of the desires of her heart, she suddenly understood.  Her desires were not truth, and in this case they had led her astray.

            He touched her face, his thumb tracing just beneath her eye to wipe away her tear, the same caress he had always used to show his affection, the one that had fooled her into thinking that his emotions were deeper than they were.  There was no noticeable difference in his touch, but she recognized it now as a mimic.  The emotion behind his fingers was caring, but not specialized.  He could have touched anyone like that.  She remembered suddenly the way he had touched her when they met at St. Gabriel's institute, the way he had wipe her tears back then, and how she had been fooled by it until he spoke.  He could do things without having to feel them.  Heero always could.  

            "I don't love you, Relena."

            The floodgate behind her eyes broke open and she turned her face away, pulling her cheek and chin away from his hand and covering her face to hide her tears from him.  

            "Relena," he said, and his voice shook a little, so much that she managed to look back at him through the storm.  He looked like she had hit him again, a blow to the heart that had collapsed his face.  She couldn't feel her own heart.  She thought it must have stopped beating.  

            "I'm sorry," she said, trying to control her tears, knowing that it wasn't right to cry in front of him, that he wouldn't care to see that.  Her mind wandered, toting up accounts at work she had yet to settle, organizing grocery lists, searching for any distraction to keep the pain at bay.  

            His eyes were open, like windows of melting ice, and they searched her frantically when she looked at him.  "Relena," he pleaded, and he seemed to be speaking too fast for her to understand.  She rotated her shoulders as his hands grabbed for her, stepping back in a daze, her vision a blur.  "I didn't mean to hurt you.  Please, don't cry."

            "I have to go," she said vaguely.  

            He grabbed her wrist, his expression steely, determined, the soldier that could make anything happen, that could complete any task to which he assigned himself, who could endure any misery, any difficulty.  "Relena…"

            "I don't want to hear it," she said.

            "I wasn't ready," he explained, slowly and efficiently, "for a girlfriend.  I thought I was, but not what you want.  You should know you're important to me, Relena.  You're the best thing that ever happened to me and I care about you.  It's getting late.  Stay over tonight.  Tomorrow we'll…"

            "No." Her tone was indignant.  Stay over?  She knew what he meant and she couldn't keep the shock from her face or her voice. 

            He didn't seem to understand at all, but he released her arm when she yanked it away.

            Looking at him standing there, it was so clear suddenly.  When Heero really wanted something, he went for it, and made his intentions as clear as a bell.  That was what Wufei had been trying to tell her, what he own conscience knew to be true.  Even her mother had warned her and none of it had registered. This whole time she had scorned the advice.    She was a blind, naïve, foolish idiot.  Heero could care about her and treat her well and sleep with her and still not love her.  He hadn't been ready.  He probably hadn't tried to be.  She hadn't asked for that.

            "Did you ever love me?"

            Stoically.  "No."

            "Did you always know that?"

            "Yeah."

            She moved away from him, tottering on her feet and half stumbling to put space between them.  "Did you ever intend to…?"

            "Relena…" The growl was low and guttural, but it was also desperate.

            She knew the answer.  Half-dazed, she turned away, searching for the front door blindly with her hands.   Heero did not stop her and if he spoke she couldn't hear him through dead white space that encompassed her as a buffer from the main.  Memories of shared smiles and caresses and intimate moments flooded through her mind.  The look in his eye when he touched her body and kissed her and brushed her hair away from her face collided with the words, "I don't love you." He said he had never felt anything.  

            She believed him. 

            "Relena!"

            Tears blinded her vision as she stumbled out the door to her car.  

            She didn't remember driving away, but she didn't get very far before she had to pull over, unable to see in the flood from her eyes.  She almost drove into a ditch.  Her body felt soiled, used, her heart broken, and she clutched at the wheel of her car as something solid to cling to, hair hanging in front of her face in strands that pooled on the dashboard. 

            Afterward, when she had cried to the point where there were no tears left and only a hollow silence remained, she sat lonely and solemn in her car, all of her dreams dead like scattered child's toys, her hopes grounded as a felled tree, splintered and rotting away.  She wondered if this was what it meant to lose ideals and finally be grown up.

TBC

Do you see now why this was so hard to write?!?!   This much was in the plan since the beginning, but it was still hard!  O_O  If you're not furious with me, please review.  And if you are… review anyway.  Please?  The story will continue.  You'll get Heero's POV eventually.


	21. Lost Direction

Wow! What a response last chapter!  Sorry for the delay!  Oh, there's supposed to be a space break with between "She didn't know how to stop" and "The house was quiet and dark" where there's a switch between Relena's POV to Heero's POV.   I uploaded twice and for some reason the spacing didn't come through.  Maybe it will work this time…

Desires of the Heart

Chapter 21

By Zapenstap

Relena could scarcely make sense of anything.  It was as if a heavy black curtain had been cut from a high window and the material had dropped over her head and was smothering her.

She was so stupid.

Her fingers clutched at the table in her kitchen where she had poured herself a cup of morning tea.  The steam rising from the cup moistened her face just enough to hide the tears on her cheeks.  She sloshed the liquid around with a spoon, staring at the stains it made against the polished white porcelain on the inside of the cup, unable to drink a drop.

She felt strangely calm inside, a little like being in the center of a hurricane.  In her mind, she replayed her last meeting with Heero as if watching a silent movie, and despite the way the memory pierced her heart, she found herself unable to think cruelly of him, unable to hate him or want anything other than to be with him.  The scent of him lingered in her nose, a pleasant, attractive smell she couldn't banish even if she wanted to.  Her memory recalled images of his face and neck that made her just want to kiss him, everywhere, knowing in advance the way he reacted to her touch, wanting him to react that way because she felt he deserved anything and everything she could give.  But he didn't want her, and the way his face had looked so broken when he told her so stuck in her head like a shard of bone snagged in a spot just behind her eyes.

Since she woke up, she felt sick to her stomach.  Her shower had been too hot, smothering her in a steam that seemed claustrophobic and suffocating.  Cold water only made her feel numb, but it kept her head cool and it was the only way she had been able to finished rinsing and get out of the tiny stall before she vomited.  Even while dressing, mechanically, she felt like she was going to throw up at any moment, though she knew there was nothing physically wrong with her.

Perhaps it wasn't surprising when she came down to the kitchen she didn't feel hungry.  Her tea just looked like discolored water.  She couldn't stomach it.  If these were the butterflies of unrequited love, she didn't want them, not ever again!  To love so deeply, so devotedly, only to be used and then scorned…it destroyed her trust, her belief in love.  If he hadn't _pretended_ to love her, or to let her believe that he did, perhaps it would not hurt so much.  True, he had never told her he loved her, or made any indication that he was going to, but he had let her assume he was serious about her, that she was not just some casual… She felt like an object, some thing Heero had used to slake the newly awakened sexual desires that her proximity had set loose in him. 

Her knuckles turned white against the table.  Fighting back tears, she struggled instead for righteous anger, for self-willed passion and rage.  Heero didn't love her.  Maybe he had even used her.  Well, so what? If he ever changed his mind, maybe in a few months or a few years, if he was ever serious about her, she could throw it back in his face.  An image arose in her mind of shouting at him, fists clenched and eyes wild, screaming at him all the things she had never said; how it hurt that he didn't notice when she dressed up for him, that it hurt the way he had introduced her to Quatre, that it broke her a little more every day he had acted distant, refusing to share his life with her, his thoughts, his preferences, his past, anything but his body!  And that was for his benefit too, she knew.  Even pleasing her had really been for the benefit of his pride.  She imagined how he would feel hearing her tell him so, how she could cut into him through the kindness she knew existed underneath that hardened outer wall when she told him how he had abused her patience, broken her heart, destroyed her dreams.  Then, feeling half mad and half relieved, she would tell him how she had loved him.  _Had_. But he had thoroughly destroyed her heart, sliced a gaping wound into her soul, and she felt sure she could never love again, could never go through feeling like this again.  She would tell him that she had come to hate him.  Yes, hate him!

Her stomach flipped and she doubled over in her chair, holding a hand to her mouth as a wave of nausea swept through her.  The images passed through her mind in unstoppable waves, and she rode them like a boat in stormy water. It made her want to hurl, to vomit her insides onto the floor along with every emotion she possessed.  Closing her eyes, she thought about other things, forcing herself to calm down, to channel her thoughts to something less upsetting.  She thought about the place where she had been born, the hills and forests and starry blue skies that she had loved to wander through in her solitude as a girl.  Slowly, her nausea became more manageable, hovering on the merely unpleasant.

When she felt it was safe to move, she got up unsteadily from the table and headed for the stairs, leaving her tea where she had left it and trying not to think of how silent the house was now that she was alone again.  Her hand trailed along the wall as she stumbled back to her room, smiling a little sadly, resignedly.  She was always alone.  She had always been alone.  Until _he_ came she had sometimes thought that loneliness suited her.  The boring, stuffy parties of her youth, the false popularity and false friendships had only made her feel more alone.  She had drawn into a shell that could only communicate by being polite, doing what was proper and expected of someone in her position.  Her mother had told her that she was very serious, very severe.  Only Heero had ever made her feel alive.  In him she had caught a glimpse of someone that might understand her severity, would recognize the fire in her heart and the potential in her spirit.  She had always cherished the knowledge of his existence.  With him, she had somehow felt that someone out there was meant for her, someday, and that she was just waiting for when the time was right.  She remembered with a touch of wry scorn how often she had stood at her window and looked out at the night sky, wondering about Heero, always hoping he would come back.   And like an idiot, she had actually waited.

Her bed beckoned her as it had when she had been ill as a child staying home from school.  She had just risen from it a few hours ago, but she still felt a little sick and couldn't face the day today.  There was nothing important enough to do.  If there were any repercussions, they could be dealt with tomorrow.  After all, she was an important person.  She might as well take advantage of her independence for once.  No doubt they would wonder what had happened to her, but at the moment she didn't care.

She crawled onto the covers and buried her face in her pillow, welcoming the settling sensation that darkness brought.  Her stomach still felt weak, her body trembling despite her desperate attempts to relax.  Taking deep breaths, she tried to empty her thoughts, but emptying them only brought rushing in that which she tried to hold at bay.

She remembered the awkwardness of Heero's first visit and the way he had backed her against a wall, the way he made her carry the conversation on the phone, their first date, the walk under the stars, the way he touched her face and hugged her and told her how she had impacted his life and what she meant to him.  She remembered too the way he ridiculed her efforts to impress him, the way he was so quiet and closed and how it had bothered her. But she never got mad, or asked for anything from him, always understanding, always thinking of _his_ feelings and _his_ needs.  She had trusted him on faith, believed in him like he really was some kind of prince from the stars. She had never questioned his intentions, or supposed he would treat her as anything less than a princess.

Her illusions were shattered.  She was not pure or sacred or new any longer.  She was not a virgin.  Well, she had always imagined Heero as the one to be with her in that way, so perhaps it was a good thing.  At least she would never wonder, and she would never have to go through that anticipation again, the need to feel loved and respected and safe just to justify her sexual desires for a man.  And she had loved him, even if he hadn't loved her.  She could always tell people that if they asked about her first time.  Tears filled her eyes, just a little bit.  At least it wouldn't matter now.  After all, if the first time had been a sham…

She felt so cheated. 

The images of his hands slipping under her clothes, his mouth on her neck, his eyes on the curves of her body…it all collided in her mind.  She tried to force them out, to banish the thoughts, but she couldn't.  The memory of Heero being so close to her, _inside_ her, touching her so lovingly and she now _knowing_ that it was all a lie… She didn't think she could ever forget it. She realized that she never really would.  It wasn't like her fantasies had been.  He would always be her first experience, and those memories would follow her the rest of her life, needing a recounting and explanation in relationships down the road.  He would always be her first.  And she had been tricked.  Willingly.  He had practically coerced her to spend the night that first time, and everything physical progressed inch by steady inch from there, but she had never protested, never said what she wanted.  She had just thought he knew.  She was such an idiot.

She wanted to die. 

"Forget him," she whispered to herself, but she knew she couldn't.  "Forget you ever cared for him."

There was no other option that she could see, but though she tried with all her might to hate him, only tears leaked from the mess inside. If only he had loved her…The way she felt now, she wasn't even sure he had ever really cared.  He certainly hadn't listened very well, or tried to understand her.  She sobbed, the noise cutting through the silence in her room, echoing the way she felt cut up inside.  She lifted a hand to her eyes, telling herself to stop crying, to get a hold of herself and forget him, but she only cried harder, and wished vainly that he could hear her.  Slowly, her sobs turned into chokes and then subsided into snuffles.  Her emotions dull, he lay on her pillow for a long time, staring at the wall in silence.

When the phone rang, she started.  Heart racing, she jumped out of bed to answer it, stumbling over the mess on her bedroom floor to grab at the receiver.  "Hello?"

"Vice Minister Dorilan?"

Her heartbeat slowed to a dull thud as she listened to her secretary exclaim her regret that she was sick and then rattle off her schedule for tomorrow, rearranging her meetings from today so that tomorrow she would have no breathing space for herself whatsoever.  Relena listened and responded and took mental notes, relieved a little to have something else to think about.  At least she would be well occupied tomorrow.  But then came the reminder that sent her into a black mood.   An unavoidable party, a formal embassy function that she was required to attend as one of the guests of honor.  It was something she might have looked forward to last week, but now was like a heavy weight around her neck.  She needed a date.

"Do you know who you're taking, Vice Minister?  Should I arrange an escort for you?"

"No," Relena said quietly.  Her hands ached for Heero.  She hated herself for it, but she couldn't imagine having to spend an evening on a date with someone else right now, even a functionary one.   Perhaps it would make Heero jealous.  Maybe he would want her if he saw her with someone else, but she didn't think so. He'd seen her at enough parties with an escort, guarding her from the shadows, often without letter her see him.  She hated this.  She couldn't stand the thought of learning to live like that again.  "I'll figure something out."

When her secretary hung up, she laid in bed and stared again at the wall, thinking again of Heero.  She missed him.  She didn't know how to stop.

            The house was silent and dark; the blinds closed against the mid-morning sun and only the lamp on his desk switched on to flood the computer with a little light.

Heero wasn't at the computer anymore.  He had worked some already in the early morning hours when he was unable to sleep, but now he was sitting leisurely on the couch, a book open on his knee. 

The solitude was soothing.  He was used to being on his own, to having other people enter his life only at the outermost perimeter and not stay very long.  He had never been involved with the rest of the world and had never had to be.  If he cared about other people, it was from a distance, doing what he had to do in the meantime, accustomed to not expecting any sort of acknowledgement or concern for him in return. 

Relena had always been an enigma.  Her concern for him had never made sense, pushing the limits of his personal boundaries, struggling to understand who he was for some reason only she had ever understood.  But he had grown accustomed to it slowly, and learned to accept it, and then to expect it.  He didn't know why or how or when his acceptance had changed to liking, but that little bit of whatever it was broke something in him and now he craved her attention, as if he had been parched all his life and in need of something only she could give.  He had longed for her spiritually, and then his body became addicted to hers, craving the physical closeness, and sex, reveling in the pleasurable proximity of another human being flooding him with new sensations.  Thinking of her had made him forget himself.  For a time, he had almost lived a normal life, became a different person, and left his memories behind. 

But somehow it went wrong.  She was _too_ close, and… different somehow.  She had been like him in some ways, solitary, thorough, severe in her determination to realize her ideals.  In his head she was stronger than he.  But the more he got to know her in this new way, the more he feared she wasn't he person he had thought.  He looked at her face, at all the hope and adoration and expectation directed at him, and felt trapped.  The way her face flushed in his presence began to irritate him. He tried to remember why he liked her, why he had watched her for so long and why he continued to see her day after day.  But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that all he wanted was for her to be gone.  Somehow she had changed when he wasn't looking, turning into something he didn't understand and wasn't sure he even liked.  Her moods and emotions were a contradiction, layers of feeling swiftly changing at a word or a glance, never consistent, and never out in the open but always hidden under an outer shell of contentment.  He didn't understand her.

He hated not understanding, but the more he tried to puzzle her out the more frustrated he became.  Lifting his head, Heero stared at the wall with half closed eyes, letting his thoughts tumble softly.  He missed her softness, the way she felt close to him with the scent of her perfume clouding his thoughts, but perhaps that was just the allure of the female sex.  Her voice always stuck a chord in him too, so sure of everything she said even if she was wrong, but he knew that wasn't enough.  He hadn't wanted to hurt her, of course, knowing that it would crush her, knowing what she wanted of him, but now that she was gone, he felt good.  He felt blessedly free. 

A disconsolate feeling tortured him wondering how she felt right now, but he knew there wasn't anything more he could do.  Telling her he didn't love her had been a relief.  He had been tense with thinking it, knowing he had to tell her and not sure how to bring it up or what to say.  There really wasn't anything to say.  He hadn't wanted to hurt her. He still cared about her, but they wanted and expected different things.  He realized now that he wasn't ready to fuse his life with anyone else.  There was too much in the way, bumps and bruises of his past and personality that he could not forget even if she distracted him from it for awhile.  Wasn't it better in a way that he had ended it?  He had tried to bury his discontent and be who she wanted him to be, to focus on the positive things, but when she forced his hand, he had to say something, and he could admit to himself now that he felt better for it.  But she was hurt.  He knew she would be.  He figured it would be better now to just stay away from her.  She was strong.  She would survive.

The silence in his house was like a graveyard.

 His dog got up from its place by the fire and came to lay at his feet, staring up at him with consoling eyes.

"I'm not upset," Heero said, and he bent to scratch the dog's ears to convince it that nothing was wrong.  A surge of emotions rising up in his gut surprised him.  Startled, he forced them down, swallowing and swiftly standing up from the couch.  Trying not to think how she was feeling, he did mental exercises, adding numbers and planning tactical strategies that distracted him.  He had to just let her go.  Maybe things had gone badly, but there was nothing he could do about it now.   His heart beat rapidly as he paced the floor, taking deep breaths and staring concernedly at things to keep his attention singularly focused.  

The soft, but firm knock on his door surprised him.

"It's not a good time!" he said, raising his voice to be heard through the door. 

 "You seem distressed," came a mellow voice.

"I said it's not a good time," Heero repeated, stopping his pacing to glare at the door.  "What are you doing here?"

The door was unlocked and Mandred opened it, peering inside at Heero with eyes that seemed to take in everything about him in an instant.  "I realized I hadn't seen you in awhile and I was in the neighborhood.  I apologize for not having called.  If it's really not a good time, I can come back later."  He glanced around circumspectly.  "You're alone?"

"Relena and I broke up," Heero said stoically. 

His voice was carefully neutral, but perhaps something registered in his eyes because Mandred's expression changed as he stepped inside the rest of the way, shutting the door behind him.  "What happened?"

Heero hesitated, watching the older man cross the room to turn on the lights Heero had kept off for the comfort of darkness.  He knew he didn't have to tell Mandred anything.  The guy was just an older gentleman who had known his mother and had taken some odd fascination in checking up on him from time to time. He had volunteered to provide him with guardianship until he came of age, to ease his way into a peaceful world after the war, and offer advice should he need it.  At the moment, Heero resented his interference, but part of him wanted to talk, if just to relieve his mind and lay things out so he could see them more clearly.

"I left for a week on some business," Heero explained, relaxing as he spoke though his voice remained dark and cool. "Things were deteriorating before I left and once I was on my own, I realized I was happier without her."

Mandred didn't say anything for a moment, merely eyeing Heero out of the corner of his eye.  "So you broke it off?"

"We talked after I got back.  She told me she loved me.  I told her I didn't."

His gut twisted as the words left his lips, remembering the truthful ring in her voice when she said she loved him, and the way he had felt for a moment when she said it.  He had felt elated, like a rush of wind had entered his body on the backs of a thousand trilling birds, and then suddenly terrible, a terrible sinking feeling in his gut alerting him of his own feelings and the knowledge that it was going to destroy her. He had been cold to her then, almost harsh, but he hadn't known how else to act.  It was what he always did when he had to do something unpleasant that just needed to be done.

Mandred's expression was strangely soft, almost pitying, but not insulting or contemptuous.  Perhaps compassionate.  "I'm sorry.  It's not easy… on either end.  Is she's all right?"

"She ran out," he said, and the bitterness welled up in his throat when he recalled how she had fled from him.  She had never run from before.  He had called but she hadn't stopped, hadn't wanted anything to do with him.  She couldn't even look at him.  He felt strange at the thought, almost sick. 

Mandred retracted a little, glancing away from Heero and around the room, pulling his thoughts into his mind the way he did when he was bothered.  "This happened this morning?"

"Last night."

"Perhaps you should speak to her when she's calmed down."

"Why?"  He'd already hurt her.  What good would it be to drag it out?

"She is not someone you will be able to avoid for the rest of your life," Mandred reminded him.  "She'll likely call you if you don't call her, eventually, and you will probably run into her at some point."

"Why would she call me?" Heero asked.  He didn't see any reason why she should call.  Everything that needed to be said was said.

Mandred seemed surprised that he didn't understand, though his voice didn't reflect it.  It never did.  Heero wondered sometimes how much control Mandred used to keep his tone so mellow all the time, no matter what the topic of conversation or the emotions involved.  "Because she loves you," Mandred explained.  "She's loved you for a long time.  Even if she understands that you don't love her, she won't want you to vanish from her life."

Heero absorbed this information, but didn't reply immediately.  Something in him didn't want to call her, even if what Mandred said was true.  He feared she would misunderstand and think he had not meant what he had said.  He did not want to risk having to tell her again that he couldn't be what she wanted him to be.  Heero regarded Mandred out of the corner of his eye as he thought these things, wondering what the older man had expected.  Mandred just looked back, patient and calm as always, so certain of everything.  In a way, it irritated Heero.  Mandred had made him make that first phone call.

"You're not disappointed?" Heero asked.  "With the way this turned out?"

"Why should I be?"

"You encouraged me to begin this."

The older man's smile was a little sad. "Nobody can foresee these things.  It's not my place anyway.  I thought she might be a good match for you, but you are the better judge.  If you tried it and it didn't work, there's no cause to my objecting."

Heero didn't say anything at first.  He thought back on his relationship with Relena, at the way he had felt at first compared with the way he had felt recently.  He remembered her luminous, understanding eyes, blue like the sky and tinged with green, like a peaceful lagoon inviting him to lay down his arms and rest.  It had been poetry in the first few months, and intensified his longing for something deeper and sweeter and sensual.  Her hair and lips and the soft beauty of her skin were all potent, affecting him in ways he hadn't thought possible, making him feel things he had never expected to feel.  The sex was unforgettable. He had liked the way it felt when he was inside her and she was the only thing on his mind until the sweet, sensuous rapture that brought those moments to a swift and sudden end.  But it hadn't been like that the last time.  He had come to realize that she had changed.  The rest she offered him seemed too good to be true, and her smiles and constant accommodating of his needs made him lose his faith in the simplicity of her goodness.  All he could think about that last time was that she annoyed him, and even though it still felt good and ended the same, he hated himself in that moment.

"I can't understand why she would run out," Mandred was saying, his voice like a buzz in the distance, "but if that's the case, she must have been pretty upset.  I still think you should call to make sure she's all right."

Heero thought about battles.  He almost always did if he didn't distract himself with something else.  Sometimes he felt that that was the way he was living these days, just searching for something to distract him and discarding it when it no longer worked.  At times he managed to let go of his past and pretend to be normal, but sometimes the world felt empty.  Once, the will to fight was the only thing that kept him living, because he had to fight even if he didn't have to live.  His soldiering days were like black spots on his memory, eating up his soul, a part of him he both hated and was proud of.  Objectively, he knew he was crazy, depressing, and dangerous.  Thinking about it, he sometimes felt that he would feel more natural to lock himself away from the world, to push everyone away and just be on his own, where he could hurt only himself.

Normally, he avoided those thoughts, but right now it was the only thing that he felt strongly enough about to block out Relena's broken face. 

"It's kinder to set her loose," Heero said quietly, and forced her from his mind.  He stared beyond Mandred at the wall, at shadows and shapes that only he could see. 

"Just be glad it wasn't too serious," Mandred said quietly. 

"When's your wedding?" Heero asked. He knew Mandred was engaged to a woman named Immilie, though he had heard no news since the announcement.  It irked him that this older man would presume to give him advice about courting girls when he was nearly middle-aged (he seemed younger, but he had to be at least that old) and had been promising to marry the same woman for years without actually doing it.

"There are still complications with that," Mandred replied, "mostly because of my background."

Heero didn't respond.  Mandred's background was mostly a mystery to him, save that he was educated with a distinguished career in philosophy but was known for his research in mechanical engineering.  He knew how the gundams were constructed, perhaps one of few in the world who had seen the original blueprints and he always spoke like a professor, which was familiar to Heero, though Mandred was not at all like Dr. J in that he seemed to think more highly of reading, moralizing and education than political causes.  All in all, it often felt to Heero that Mandred belonged in a library, not the real world. 

Ted lifted his head from where he had been pretending to sleep, staring up at Heero as if waiting for something.

"So are you going to call her?" Mandred asked.  

Heero didn't respond, suddenly not sure how he felt.  Mandred sounded a little annoyed, perhaps because Heero was ignoring him, but Heero couldn't get himself to interface.  It was as if he was watching himself react from a distant place, cold and detached from everything: isolated.  He thought again of the battles, of his own bleak background, or the assassinations and killings and near-suicides.  He reminded himself that even if he had loved Relena, there was always that.  He hadn't meant to hurt her, but at least he knew he was being consistent.  Watching Mandred, he knew he was being weighed, and that his guardian was becoming annoyed with his lack of response.  Heero felt a sudden urge to disappear.   He remembered Mandred's reaction when he had told him that Relena stayed over nights, and also the feeling of her body close to his while he slept, his arms around her torso and her hair spread across his pillows. 

"It was serious," Heero said darkly, and caught Mandred's eye as the other man started.  "In a way.  I slept with her."

The expression on Mandred's face made Heero almost feel as if he had scored a point, though he didn't care much for games.  Mandred looked shocked for a moment, and then merely confused, as if he was trying to work out a puzzle.  "I fail to understand. You've been seeing her for awhile, but from what you've told me, it seems she thought it was more serious than you did."

"I took it seriously," he said quietly.  He could detect no emotion in his tone, though some kind of emotion in him was fighting to be heard.  He locked it in, ignoring it, watching himself react from the outside.  "I care about her and I'll always be there to protect her.  I tried to be what she wanted, but I couldn't love her.  Even so, that first experience meant something to me."

Mandred's expression stopped him.  His eyes took on a sharp look, as if he just discovered a piece in a jigsaw puzzle had just been found face down under the table and its painted side was the centerpiece in the picture.  "All right," he said.  His voice lacked judgment, surprisingly so, but Heero could feel reproach in it anyway, could see it in his expression.  Mandred's voice was so calm it was as if he was just managing to keep it that way.  Heero didn't care.  He felt self-destructive.  "When did this happen?"

"Before I left for the mission. The weekend before last."

"Just once?"

It wasn't something he normally would have discussed with anyone, but for some reason he felt driven to, perhaps because he knew it would shock Mandred. "A few times, but it was just physical."

"I thought you said it meant something."

"It did.  But not like that."  He couldn't describe how it felt.  It meant something to be so close to someone, to feel someone the way he had felt her.  For the first time in his life he had been able to forget himself, to forget everything except what he felt at the moment, as if all his memories had been washed way to leave only raw, pleasurable sensation.  The welcoming warmth of her body was beautiful.  It meant something, but he couldn't say exactly what.  "I can't explain it."

Mandred shook his head, not in admonishment, but as a sort of gesture of understanding.  They both understood without having to talk about it.

"It wasn't love," Heero said helplessly.  "I don't know."  He really didn't know.  He hadn't thought about it.

For a moment Mandred said nothing, and only gradually came out of his personal thoughts, blinking at Heero slowly, his expression tight.  "You talked with her about this?" he said, and here the control over his voice slipped a little, the sharpness startling Heero more than he was prepared for.  "It doesn't seem to be the kind of arrangement she would expect.  If she was a virgin…"

"She didn't say anything about it."  His own voice was still quiet, but it was the kind of deadly quiet that came over him when he expressing a little emotion would result in expressing too much. Heero felt defensive, and a little panicked.  He didn't like the edge in Mandred's tone, the creased brow or the way his eyes seemed full of disappointment and worry.  Heero remembered his nights with Relena, the smile on her face and the welcome in her eyes.  He remembered the pleasure he gave her, the soft, breathless way she had called his name, the way it felt….  "She wanted to." It felt so good.  She hadn't voiced any complaints.

Mandred shook his head.  "You need to call her," he said firmly.

Heero's teeth clenched and he locked his jaw as he replied.  "I don't want to call her." 

The sick feeling in his gut was stronger, making him feel weak and unstable and vulnerable.  Looking at Mandred, he just wanted him to go.

"Heero," Mandred began. His tone was patronizing, just beginning to lurch into a lecture.

"It's over between us," Heero said.  "He was too old for this, too blood-stained and bitter and isolated to endure someone else pointing out his mistakes.  "It wasn't the right thing for me."  He hated making mistakes.  He refused to believe he made one.  "I'll still be there when she needs me.  Things will be the way they were before.  It was better that way."

Mandred shook his head again.  "Things have changed, Heero.  They can't be the way they were before. You can't turn her on and off like a switch.  You have a responsibility to the girl.  She could be carrying your child."

The statement took him aback.  The idea was ridiculous.  It made him angry.  "She's not pregnant.  She was on birth control."

"The principle is the same," Mandred replied, and the intensity of his tone didn't alter a hair.  "I'm glad that at least one of you was planning somewhat.  I'm not saying you have to marry her or be with her, but you need to talk to her.  I'm not sure what will happen now.  I don't think you realize what this means."

"I don't need you to lecture me," Heero said, and the growl in his voice was more than he meant to convey.  It dawned on him that he was angry with Manded.  "You act like I've committed a crime.  There's nothing unusual in it."

"Under these circumstances…"

"I think you should go," he said abruptly.  His eyes burned.  Mandred stared at him as if unsure what he had heard, but Heero didn't look away.  He stared Mandred in the eye with a straight face.  He was not going to call Relena to talk about how he had broken her heart and why he had done it.  "I don't want your advice."

"Why are you behaving this way?"  Mandred asked, and the reactive flash in his eye seemed to break down the careful way he had been handling the conversation.  "I'm sorry, Heero, but if you didn't love the girl and you knew that, and knew she loved you, you should have been more careful with her feelings."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Is this to do with the war?" Mandred asked, sounding somewhat surprised and somewhat sure.  "What happened on your mission?"

"Nothing!"  Heero snapped. Relena had asked the same.  Why did everything relate back to the war?  "This has nothing to do with the mission.  Nothing happened on the mission.  Anybody could have done it.  I took that job as an excuse to get away from her."

"Heero…"

"She was suffocating me."

"Now you're just trying to justify it."

"I don't love her," he said.  "I know she wanted me to, but I can't.  Her faith in me was misplaced."  He paused.  "So was yours."

"Heero…"

The rumble in his throat was only a hint of the rage he felt boiling to the surface.  "Just leave me alone."

"Don't shut me out."

"I never asked you to come in."

"Heero, if this is to do with the war…"

"It _doesn't_!"  His muscles tensed and lights exploded behind his eyes.  Fury like fire brought memories sweeping across his vision, battlefields strewn with broken parts and broken bodies stretching out endlessly across the rent and blood-soaked earth.  "Will everyone stop bringing it up?" he shouted.  All the craziness, the confusion, the loneliness, the sense of knowing that peace could only be found in death, it filled him in every particle of his being.  He felt trapped, suffocated, nauseous, and lost.  It had been so hard to let go.  "I don't know why you're so interested anyway.  Stop talking about it!"

"Heero, I know it's difficult…"

"You can't relate to my experiences," he interrupted. "You don't know what I've been through."  He squeezed his eyes shut, sucking air in through his teeth.  When he opened his eyes, he felt calmer outwardly, an icy wall wrapping him in a layer of protection, though a storm raged in his soul.  He shook his head at Mandred and spoke darkly, though mostly to himself. "You've done a lot for me and I appreciate the effort, but you're not my father.   Maybe you feel like you've missed your chance or something, but I don't need that kind of charity.  I get tired of advice.  I don't know what you think gives you the right to tell me how to deal with the war and sort out my personal life.  War isn't an academic study and my personal life is none of your business.  Just let me be.  I don't want you here anymore."

He became aware of a change in Mandred, and the change was like a shroud of darkness falling across the whole room.  He could not remember having ever seen Mandred look like that before.  His jaw was locked and his shoulders stiff, his expression tight in a way Heero never imagined or expected to see.

"We'll talk when you're in a better mood," Mandred said, and for some reason the stiff calm in his voice stung more than the indignant fury he sensed, but Heero only watched, his own jaw tight with anger.  "You can come find me if you want to talk."

"I don't," Heero replied. 

Heero could have cut the tension in the air with a knife.  When Mandred spoke next, his voice shook, trembling with barely controlled emotion.  "Don't think it's easy for me to come here.  I do as much as I can for you."

"You don't have a wife, or children, or the guilt of death on your conscience, so bother someone else."

Mandred look shocked, his expression pained.  He seemed to fight for words.  They stared at each other in silence for several minutes and Heero suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to apologize but didn't know how or why.  What he did instead was glare back, stubborn and willful, hanging onto his pride while waiting with vague dread for some kind of explosion.

Suddenly, Mandred turned away and walked out, the door slamming on his heels.

Silence swallowed everything.

For a moment Heero did nothing, just staring at the shut door as if it were an enemy, hating it and needing it at the same time.  His thoughts were blank, hardly conceiving what had happened. Turning away, he walked into the kitchen, calmly rolling up his sleeves to begin washing the dishes he had neglected the night before.  For awhile he didn't think of anything but the hot water and the soap slick on his hands.  He felt a little annoyed for having lost his temper, and a little angry that he had taken off on that tangent about the war, a place he hadn't needed to go.  It was irrelevant to his current situation, a thing of the past.  It hadn't been right to tell Mandred any of those things, even if they were true, as he felt at the moment, and he knew he had gone too far.  For the first time he really wondered why Mandred took an interest in him.

As he worked, the tangled web of his emotions unraveled until he didn't feel much of anything. 

Heero had always had a strong sense of responsibility.  In the war he took responsibility for the people he killed, even if he was ordered to do it because that was the job of a solider, because that was just the kind of person he was.  It was even worse when he made a mistake, but when the mistake was made clear to him he would break his neck trying to correct it.  He couldn't stand being less than perfect, of doing any job less than perfectly.   But no matter how kind he tried to be, he sometimes couldn't tell the difference between right and wrong. He followed his emotions as best as he could, trying to feel his way through an indistinct haze of conflicting values.  At the moment, he couldn't feel anything except awful.

When the phone rang, he answered it doggedly.

"Heero?"

Relena's voice trembled slight and weak like a hesitant bird's.  It didn't sound anything like her.  It sounded like she had been crying, or was about to.  Maybe both. 

"What do you want?" he asked softly.  "Are you all right?"

She was quiet.  Too quiet.

"Relena," he said.  "I didn't mean to hurt you.  I still want you in my life."

"It's okay," she said hastily.  He couldn't read her emotions through the phone, but it sounded like a chaotic mix of things no man should ever have to try and understand. "I'm sorry, Heero. I don't know why I called.  It was stupid.  I shouldn't have done it."

He was surprised she had called too, but he didn't understand why it was stupid.  "Relena, as long as you understand how I feel…"

"I understand," she said quickly, and stopped talking again.  

He looked down at his toes, holding the phone to his ear and breathing quietly, letting softer, gentler emotions flow through him.  "I'm still going to be in your life," he said quietly. "I'm not going to disappear when I promised I would protect you."

"You take promises seriously, Heero?"

"Yeah."

She was quiet again, and he wondered if she was thinking of the other promise he had made to her a long time ago. 

"I want us to be friends at least," Heero ventured, not really even sure what that meant, but knowing he wanted something of her.  "We won't be able to avoid each other.  I don't want that.  I care a lot about you."

She was quiet again.  For a moment he panicked, not really think that she might say no.  "Okay," she said, and he relaxed, though her still he could not read her emotions in her voice.  There was another moment of silence while he tried to think of something else to say.  "Listen, Heero," she said suddenly, and he paid attention, listening harder to her than he ever really had. "I have a problem. I have to attend an embassy function this weekend and I need to take someone.  I know we're not together and it's probably way too soon to ask you any favors, but I was hoping that by next weekend we'll have settled a little bit.  I just don't know who else to take and it's the kind of thing you normally would have come to anyway, to guard me I mean, though I probably wouldn't have seen you."

He knew what she was talking about.  He couldn't decide if it would be easier to guard her from the shadows or as her date, but she was right. He had been planning to go anyway. At least this way he wouldn't have to forge an invitation.  "All right." He owed her this much.

He thought he could feel her smiling, though perhaps a little sadly.  He couldn't be sure.  Her quietness disturbed him.  "Thank you," she said.  Was there a strain in her voice?  He didn't have enough time to analyze it. "You'll have to dress up, though.  It's a black and white formal affair."

"Don't worry about it."

"Heero?"

He waited again, listening for all he was worth. "What?"

There was a moment of silence in which he felt her thinking.  "Never mind," she whispered.

I'm writing my senior thesis and several other stories so updates are just slow, guys. I'm really sorry.  I'm getting older and my life seems to just get more and more crowded.  You'll have to put up with it for now, I guess!    But WOW!  The reviews for the last chapter were just…. OO   so flattered  I really didn't know how anybody was going to take it, but the response just blew me away.   I'm really pleased, so keep reading!  The story is still going obviously, so hang in there and keep letting me know what you think! 


	22. What Happened at the Party

Desires of the Heart

Chapter 22

By Zapenstap

Relena's gown was made of a cream-colored peau de soie satin that flowed from her bust to her matching open-toed heeled shoes in one continuous piece. A beautifully pleated neckline covered her in the front, but there was virtually no back, and the thin, rhinestone studded straps did little to hide her shoulders. The straight skirt was perfectly lined to follow her curves down to her feet. Every movement of her body created a ripple in the fabric that resulted in a subtle flash as the satin caught the light.

Her jewelry was borrowed from a jewelry store for the occasion, donated because of who-she-was. The choker around her neck sported a three diamond drop that dazzled the eye and the matching earrings looked like frosted icicles. Her hair was up, piled and sprayed in an elaborate mixture of curls and twists and appropriate hanging strands that framed her face but bared her neck for everyone to see. Her makeup was perfect; her lips and eyes and skin glistening and sparkling in all the right places, not overdone, but eye-catching and memorable.

She wandered aimlessly through her house, glancing at her reflection in the window to make sure everything was just as it should be. Her hands trailed affectionately on the familiar things in her house; the furniture, the mantle, the picture frames and blown glass figures on her shelves. Her thoughts rolled, soared and dived in continuous motion, rising and falling with the beat of her heart.

Heero was her escort and date tonight, despite the face that he had broken her heart. She wanted to look good for him and was not ashamed to admit it. She wanted him to want her like he had never wanted her before. She wasn't sure why she wanted it. She had reasoned to herself the facts of the situation, knew she should be trying to let him go. After all, if he didn't love her he didn't love her and that's all there was to it, and yet a childish part of her wanted to make him sorry for not loving her, if not to win him over entirely.

She wished she could just shove him aside and move on, but she couldn't. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face. His words repeated softly in her ears.

She stopped with her hand on the wall and clenched her fist to keep the emotions from welling up in her eyes and spoiling her makeup. How was it possible that one person could do this to her, that love could do this to her? Why did it have to be so hard?

"It's my fault," she reminded herself aloud so it would have more force. She hung her head slightly, clenching her eyes shut. "He never told me it was going to be love. I let myself believe…" Her pep talk was only making herself feel worse.

Wiping her eyes, she moved to position herself in front of the window and stared at her reflection. Fixing the smudges in her make up and adjusting her hair helped calm her down.

"Perhaps this is a mistake," she said to her reflection, but was answered only by the somber expression in her face.

Mistake or not, she knew that inviting Heero was something she had had to do. She had to go to this party and she didn't want to take anyone else. She couldn't imagine any other man in her life. Besides, she wanted to see him. No matter how much she cried over Heero, she couldn't make herself forget him and his continuing vigilance inside her head made it impossible to do anything except want to see him. She wanted to see him even if it hurt enough to make her sick. She just had to remember that they could not be lovers and get over her feelings for him. That was all there was to it. She could do it. She knew she could. If nothing else, perhaps they could be friends.

The knock at her door startled her out of her thoughts. She jumped a little, goose bumps pebbling her skin as she lifted a hand to her throat. It was unusual for Heero to be early. Her reaction to knowing he was just outside her door was not one with which she had prepared herself to cope. Butterflies cavorted in her stomach. She felt slightly warm. Then sick. Her skin was flushed. The sudden and overwhelming desire for sex threatened to knock her off her feet.

She stared at the door in amazement, and then felt the diamonds at her throat. If she pressed against them hard enough, they hurt. They were real. Her emotions were just feelings, and she could change them or ignore them and put them under her control. Besides, she looked stunning. Heero would think so too. Tonight they would be on equal playing fields, knowing better where one another stood. This time she wasn't going to cry and run off. She would use this time with him to communicate. She knew that with time she could change the way she felt, to come to grips with the knowledge that they were no longer together and accept him in her life as just Heero. The very thought hurt, but she was strong and she could do it. Tonight she would play it cool, friendly, and remind herself it wasn't the end of the world, just the end of a romantic relationship.

A second knock followed the first.

"Coming," she called out, and checked her hair one last time for stray strands and her make-up for smudges. Everything was perfect.

Relena strode confidently to the door, enjoying the alluring _swish swish_ of her gown as the fabric rippled and rubbed against itself with the motion of her legs. She let the sensation bring to her face the smile of happiness and optimism that she would cling to if all else failed. As a politician used to controlling her emotional reactions in more dire situations than this, she should have nothing to fear.

Opening the door brought the butterflies back, along with all her caged desires.

Heero stood expectantly…and beautifully, on her doorstep. Dressed in a black and white centennial tuxedo, rented no doubt from a shop, was a man who both accentuated and clashed with his costume. The ex-soldier turned gentleman looked up at her from under his hair and his eyes locked onto her in a sharp, penetrating, almost threatening stare that made her fear him and love him in the same thudding heartbeat. It was the way he looked when they had met at Saint Gabrielle's Institute after their contact on the beach, only now she knew him so much better. . The walls that had protected him were pierced, the defenses burrowed under, at least partially, and the attack in his eyes failed to frighten her. Instead she felt like he was driving into her soul, and she falling into his and the memory of their wilder, more desperate lovemaking exploded in her head without rhyme or reason. Her breath caught, her tongue faltered, and she found herself trembling. She wanted desperately to kiss him

His fingers brushed against her hand.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She started, pulling her hand away from the doorknob. It was such a strange thing to say with his eyes on her like that, that it took her a moment to understand. She didn't think he noticed what his eyes did to her. He was asking her well-being under the circumstances.

"I'm doing all right," she replied. It wasn't entirely truthful, but it would be immature to say anything else. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't his fault that he didn't love her the way she loved him, but her stubborn, wounded heart wouldn't believe it.

"Come on," he said, offering her his arm. "We should go."

Some people would think of Heero as rude. It never crossed her mind.

She stared at his arm for a moment, and then at his face. He was so beautiful. Her lover… her date… A whirlwind of needy, vulnerability swept through her. She wanted… She broke under a sudden wave of need and vulnerability. She asked before she thought. "Heero, will you kiss me?"

He seemed momentarily surprised, but then masked it as he leaned in to kiss her. Her lips were sticky from her lip gloss and she barely felt his alight upon them. She knew the moment his lips touched hers that it was their last kiss. There was pain in it, a swift pain in him and a long, aching pain in her that made them both turn their faces away as soon as it was over.

She didn't know what to say. She was too ashamed to apologize for having asked and not sure she could laugh it off as a joke. She didn't even think about why he agreed. She just wanted to feel normal again. She wanted to die.

"Let's go," he repeated, and pulled her gently down the steps by her elbow.

Heero drove Relena to the party mostly in silence at first as she coped with her feelings of shame and regret. Knowing it would make him uncomfortable to see her depressed, she managed to tuck the negative feelings away and smile.

He looked at her askance when she did. "So what's this party about?"

She told him about the party, about who would be there and what they could expect in terms of lighting and champagne and dancing and food. It was a large promotional party held for the opening of the Sank Kingdom embassy building. It was not supposed to be a political party, though politics would inevitably creep in. It was meant as a welcoming reception and community strengthener for political leaders and activists with ties to Sank who were working together despite widely varying opinions on current governmental issues and projects. It would be big and glossy and expensive, but well catered and there was no obligation to stay all night. As she talked, smiling and chatting and keeping her hands still in her lap and her emotions composed, Heero relaxed and stopped staring at her as if trying to bore a hole through her skull. His posture became easy, his expression devoid of conflict. It was almost like he didn't realize that she was still hurt under her smile and choice of neutral topics.

"We'll have to dance," she added, "just to be seen as sociable. A lot of people will have their eye on me. Do you mind?"

"No," he said. "We can dance as much as you want. I like dancing with you"

She lowered her head and forced a trifling smile, though the sentiment pricked her like a pin. It needled under her skin, striking a spot still sore from the wounds he had inflicted when he told her he didn't love her. He liked dancing with her, but…. She felt numb inside. Perhaps someday he would realize… No, she mustn't think like that.

"Relena," Heero said without taking his eyes off the road, "Don't be like that. I didn't mean to hurt you. I don't want you to be hurt."

"I'm fine," she said. She lifted her head. She wasn't sure if she had meant him to notice her pain. Maybe she had wanted to grieve a little in his presence. But maybe that was being childish. To counteract it, she turned to smile at him so at least _he_ wouldn't be upset, and hoped that putting a smile on her face would make her feel better on the inside as well. "It's okay, really," she said in her most convincing tone. "I know this is just casual. Please don't feel uncomfortable on my account. I'm fine. We'll just be friends tonight." …and always perhaps, to her regret and trepidation, but she kept the bitterness back.

"I don't want to lose you as a friend," he said seriously. When he smiled at her, she actually felt a little better, as if everything really was okay.

Parking was valet. Heero left his keys and a threatening glare with the nineteen year-old boy that was to park his car and held out his arm for Relena at the bottom of the embassy steps. The outside of the building was crawling with security—which Relena supposed Heero had noticed and intently evaluated already—and though the gray cement walls of the government complex did not look very welcoming, the golden glow illuminating the windows from inside looked more promising. As Heero and Relena climbed side by side up the wide, cement steps, mindful of the security guards flagging them by the outer rails, the social buzz emanating from inside the open doors grew. They were welcomed personally at the door by greeters in formal array that recognized Relena by sight and Heero by Relena's invitation and word of mouth.

"Heero Yuy. A pleasure to have a gundam pilot. Miss Darlian, always a pleasure."

Relena nodded and smiled, not needing to hand over her invitation to be allowed admittance. Heero said nothing, but his eyes seemed to watch everything. With a pang of quiet loss, Relena recalled that Heero would always act as her protector on instinct, and perhaps never desire anything more. And then they entered.

As she had forewarned Heero, the party glittered from floor to ceiling in a room that—removed of all its furniture—hosted several hundred people with ample room to spare. They were neither early nor late, arriving just as the atmosphere began to bubble like the froth in the champagne. Relena was momentarily swarmed as soon as she was recognized. Somewhat surprisingly, so was Heero. His identity seemed to known to the people present at this party and he was greeted honorably as a war hero, though people generally resisted talking about the war in situations such as these. Relena knew she had to let him handle the attention on his own. Ignoring Heero as politely as she could, Relena laughed and smiled and put on her usual public sparkle as she greeted dignitaries, politicians, leading lobbyists and a host of other names and faces, some she knew personally, some she knew by association and some she had never heard of in her life. Heero endured a similar bombardment with less practice, but considerable grace. He stood straight without fidgeting and answered questions politely, though with few words, and though he didn't smile at strangers, he managed not to glare. When Relena caught glimpses of him, she felt her heart swell with pride, and wondered at her audacity.

Eventually the tide lessened as those who wanted a word with Relena Darlian got it and other important people began arriving. Nevertheless, she was separated from Heero for almost the first half hour of the party, chatting with lobbyists who wanted to talk politics at every opportunity. She noticed that the men around her were all old or married or unattractive, which left her feeling disappointed in the sense that she could not at least pretend to be over Heero by flirting, but the attention of her position took away the sting and she let herself revel in being an "important person" who made a daily difference in the world. Truth to tell, she had been lucky with Heero; her work life had been in a lull for the last year or so. When things picked up again, she probably wouldn't have time for a boyfriend.

It was a thought that tasted bitterer than she would have liked.

When her scene in the spotlight was over, her attendants having moved on to other important guests, she found she had been swept a dozen yards away from where she had begun and into the middle of the party. The first thing she did was search the room for Heero.

Tables robed in white and piled high with silver platters overflowing with fruits, hors d'oeuvres and desserts offered a tempting location to hover and mingle. Up front, a live classical ensemble played a waltz to which a few couples had begun to dance on the enormous polished wood floor. The women competed with each other in gowns that glittered, flashed, sparkled and exposed in varying degrees of elegance and decency. The men complimented their partners in tuxes of varying styles.

Heero stood out.

Even trying to blend in, he stood out, especially to Relena's eyes. He stood off by himself, a glass of champagne in his hand, looking around with an affronting hawk-like observance while trying to appear nondescript. A face and form that mysterious and that attractive could never hide in a crowd, though. He looked gorgeous in a tux. The crisp black of his coat and the polish of the turned collar made the dark blue in his eyes almost magnetic. Her heart plunged to the beat pathetically at the level of her shoes as she stared at him.

Relena wasn't the only young girl circumspectly looking his way either, but she tried to ignore the other girls. Maybe Heero wasn't hers any longer, but he had come with her to this party. They would only talk and eat and dance and then go home as friends. Though she would still wish to have him more in her life, she could accept that. She told herself so, anyway.

Setting her shoulders back, she made her way over to him, crossing the dance floor with a smile that she hoped made her glow with a desirable light. Heero looked up as she came near, and smiled back at her in a way that made her feel like she was beautiful and yet, there was an underlying diffidence in it that panged her. He knew she was beautiful… and that's all there was to it.

She wanted nothing more than to consume him and be consumed by him in comparison.

When she was close enough, she fell to touching him against her will. She wanted something of him to hold onto. Her hand was drawn to his arm, her fingers driven to clasp his sleeve and crunch the material between her fingers. When she realized what she was doing, she smoothed it out again—any excuse to touch him longer—and then hovered by his side, aching to feel his arm around her and repulsed at herself for wanting it so much. How could she still be so duped by her feelings as to want him to hold her and possess her? He didn't love her. He didn't love her. He didn't love her.

Deliberately she stepped back a little, smiling and making it seem as if she had merely caught herself against him and then straightened his coat. She could feel his eyes on her but refused to meet them, afraid that he would sense the chaos in her soul.

Standing there by his side, neither touching nor talking, she wondered if he was going to offer to get her some champagne or ask her to dance. When she finally lifted her head to look at him, all he did was stand there, sipping his glass and staring straight ahead as she hovered at his arm, almost like they weren't in the same company. It smote.

"Heero," she began. She would _not_ cry!

He turned to look at her when she spoke and she wondered if maybe she had misjudged his inattention. Perhaps he was just being Heero again, watching everything around him, always on the job. She wished she knew what he was thinking about. The question was poised on the tip of her tongue, but she schooled herself not to ask.

"Have you spoken to Mandred recently?" she asked instead.

He blinked at her, as if he knew full well that that wasn't the question she really cared about and that she was just trying to initiate some kind of interaction with him.

"No," he said. "We're not getting along at the moment." He looked away from her as if it didn't matter. Maybe it didn't

She frowned at him, but he didn't say anything more. She couldn't think of anything Heero could say that would make Mandred angry enough to stop speaking to him, but from Heero's expression and the tone of his voice, that's what it sounded like.

"Oh," she replied. "I'm sorry to hear that."

She wondered if they had argued about her. A little part of her momentarily felt soothed at the thought that Mandred might have taken her side. But then she felt bad that she should even think there were sides, or celebrate that someone moderately close to Heero would take hers at his expense. Still, even though she didn't particularly feel that Heero had ever mistreated her, a part of her liked the idea that someone else would think so and defend her. Of course, that was probably not what happened.

"Does Mandred know about us?" she asked, knowing she was being intrusive but unable to stop herself. If she saw him, she wanted to know if he knew…

"He was interfering too much," Heero said. He wasn't looking at her. His eyes were focused on something far away and out of reach.

His reply seemed out of context. Was he even listening to anything she said? "With us?"

"With my life in general."

In his usual way, Heero didn't elaborate, but Relena felt what he meant without having to ask. Mandred only came around to check up on Heero every so often these days, in response to some kind of responsibility he felt to the war orphan who had piloted the Wing Gundam. Mandred had not had any part in designing the gundam or in its use in the war after it was built, but he had been involved in the tempering of the alloys or something that brought him in contact with Heero at a very young age. He rediscovered the pilot-to-be after the war was over and took him in for a short time when he had no where to go and was living by drifting from place to place and had since acted as a professional reference if Heero ever needed one, helping him to do mundane things like buying a house and setting up legitimate accounts in a world where he no longer needed to be a ghost. Though it was generous on Mandred's part—who was often away and generally busy—Relena could see why Heero might feel resentful. After all, Heero had survived a war that had nearly buried his humanity and broken his soul. How could Mandred really relate to that?

_But then, how can I? _

It was an ironic thought, but nothing she had not thought about before. Relena knew what she wanted and had believed in it. She had persisted to discover Heero's heart despite his repetitive inferences that it was beyond her. Her interest in Heero as a person as well as his life experiences drove her to try to relate, to understand him as well as she was able and act in a manner that would be a credit to him. In a very real way, it was because of Heero that she was at this party tonight. He had made her who she was.

And now it seemed he could care less about her.

"I would like a drink," she said, partly to change the topic and partly because she really felt she needed one. Heero glanced at her and then left her side in silence to flag down a waiter carrying a tray of champagne.

Relena took deep breaths in his absence, strengthening the remaining walls around her soul and trying to remind herself of where she was and what she was about. They were just here as friends. He was doing it as a favor to her. She had to just _stop_ feeling so very personal about everything.

Heero left his empty glass with one of the waiters and took another for himself as well as one for her. Relena waited with her arms crossed, watching him and wondering why all she wanted to do was put her arms around him. What was wrong with her? He was distant toward her. Why couldn't she let him go?

Heero handed her a glass of champagne and she drank it too fast, drowning her thoughts and emotions in the bubbly liquid as she tried not to think of kissing Heero and running her hands through his hair and leaning up against his chest just to be close to his heart and surrounded by his strength. She felt like a real fool and knowing it didn't seem to help.

"Don't drink that so fast," he said, and as he reached for her glass, his knuckles brushed up against her chin.

She choked down a sob and swallowed the champagne in her mouth.

"Have you eaten anything tonight?" he asked her.

"It's just one glass," she said coolly. "I'm fine."

He didn't say anything.

Actually, she felt a little dizzy, but most of it was her imagination. Really, it was only _one_ _glass_ or champagne and it would take more than that to affect her. Still, she almost wished she was drunk. If she was drunk, maybe she could say all the things she hadn't said yet to Heero. She could tell him how much she loved him—really _explain_ it—and how hurt she was that he would lead her on for so long, making her feel used and foolish and ruined. But she didn't want to look like anymore of a fool and she knew that Heero scorned people who drank to drunkenness. Heero had a high opinion of himself and his ability to perform to the utmost potential of a human being of anytime. He was strange when it came to things like that. Why did she even love him?

"Let's dance," Heero said.

She straightened, turning to look at him as he looked out at the dance floor. "Really?" she asked.

He smiled at her, a fond, cherishing smile that caught her heart and made her doubt everything for a moment. When he held out his arm, she took it, smiling genuinely as he led her out to the dance floor. Her head had gone from despair to aspiration as she floated in a dreamy haze beside her protector and…friend.

Walking beside Heero amongst all those people, many of them couples, made her feel like she was the center of attention even if she was not. Heero was beautiful and strong and beside him she really felt like the princess he believed to be worthy of his protection. In that way, she would always belong to him and he would always be hers, though maybe not in all the ways she wanted. Still, that much alone made her feel like it was all worth it, just to be somewhere in his limelight.

She received many admiring looks from the other dancing couples and bystanders as Heero led her out to the middle of the floor and guided her in front of him so he could put his hand on her waist. The material of her dress was not thick enough to block out the sensation of his hand on her body, the warmth and pressure of his skin caused spots of color to bloom in her cheeks. She was conscious of people watching, imagining the envy of other girls and the speculation of the curious. It wasn't necessary for anybody to know anything detailed about it, of course. Rumor about herself and Heero had always existed and had always been just that: rumor. Some people were privileged to the details of their relationship, but generally speaking both she and Heero were conservative, private people.

When they danced, she could almost forget her unhappiness. Heero was a good dancer, though she couldn't fathom how he had become so, and yet, he would have been better if his heart was in it. At first, dancing with him felt like flying, but as the song continued she realized that he wasn't focusing on her, and indeed, seemed to have erected a wall between them. They didn't talk, nor joke, nor flirt, and they certainly didn't hold each other close and whisper soft, adoring words in rhythm to the music. His hands remained still on her body, almost stiff, and his eyes never landed on her for more than a few seconds. A year ago, she would have thought it was progress. But now… it felt like being pushed off a cliff.

The song ended and they stopped. Relena let her hands fall to her sides. She was resplendent in her gown, but Heero ignored her as soon as they stopped moving and she suddenly felt ugly. Holding her head high, her mind struggled to give him the benefit of the doubt—she was always giving him the benefit of the doubt—when the people around them started moving, chatting, laughing and socializing as people always did at the end of a dance.

And before Relena knew it, Heero was talking to other girls.

There were two and Relena didn't recognize either of them, but she hated both them on sight. They were both beautiful, each in a different way, and neither looked to have anything wrong with her. One was a slender red-head with a dazzling smile and an easy-going personality that sparkled right out of her eyes. The other was a voluptuous blonde that seemed to be everything Relena was only better. Neither Heero nor the girls precisely flirted, but they smiled and laughed and asked Heero who he was and how he was enjoying the party and were also sure to tell him who they were (daughters of important people, it seemed) and what _they_ thought of the party.

No one looked at Relena. Heero didn't mention her and he didn't look her way. The girls did not appear to notice they were together if they noticed her at all. There was nothing about Heero's expression or his speech that indicated any particular interest in either girl, but he did not brush them off or glare like he would normally in a social situation either, and when the redhead asked if he wouldn't mind a dance, he didn't refuse. Perhaps he thought it would have been impolite, but Relena felt her throat clench up. When the music started, he offered her his arm while the blonde found another partner. They began to dance, the redhead smiling and Heero minding his steps, his hand on another girl's waist now… He didn't even _look_ at her!

Relena waited for a minute, maybe two, waiting for him to look at her and see the brokenness in her face, the outrage and hurt and confusion and jealousy that threatened to overwhelm and drag her under, but he never glanced her way. Standing alone when everyone else had a partner, she might have been a piece of furniture on the dance floor. She couldn't think about dancing with someone else anyway. She was in love with Heero. It was certain, too, that other people had noticed, had seen her expression, and who it was directed at. In that moment, there was no hoping that she had been able to hide her emotions. If no one knew she had been in love, they knew now.

Shamed, she fled the dance floor.

She retreated to the safety of the food tables and wandered up and down the aisle, but could not think about eating. Instead she found herself turning to watch the dance, singling Heero out of the crowd in a heartbeat. Relena watched the redhead move her hand up Heero's arm to his shoulder, talking to him with a smile on her face, a devious, flirtatious smile that eventually made Heero smirk, whatever it was she said. Relena thought he danced closer with this girl than he had with her, especially when she saw their legs touching and his hand halfway around her back. She watched until she felt sick and then looked around for someplace to sit alone and try not to cry.

She headed for the open bar in the corner, a place from which the view of the dance floor was obscured, and sat on one of the stools. There were other people in line for drinks, but she didn't feel like ordering. She just wanted to sit. No one told her she couldn't. Doubtless they all recognized her, and though she carefully kept the anguish she felt carefully concealed in front of this many people, she wasn't sure she cared about what they thought in that moment. A few people spoke to her and she replied generically without knowing for certain what she said.

Eventually Heero would look for her and notice she was gone, she supposed, perhaps when the dance was over or maybe after he danced with the other girl too. She was pretty certain she could have discovered who those girls were, but she didn't really care. She almost felt like they could have been anybody.

"Miss? Are you all right?"

Relena turned toward the bar to see that the line had vanished and only the bartender was left, rinsing out glasses and drying them with a towel. When she turned, he saw her face and let out a little gasp of recognition.

"Miss Darilian, forgive me," he said with a smile. "You're even more beautiful in person."

She smiled back at him, losing some of her angst in the compliment, and turned a little on her stool. "How is the party from the working perspective?" she asked. "Are you having a good time?"

"It's been a pretty good night so far," he replied.

She looked at the bottles of alcohol in racks set up behind the counter and was tempted to order something with the intent of getting drunk just to give Heero the headache of seeing her home, but refrained. For all she knew, Heero might forget about her and go home with someone else. The thought brought a swift rush of pain that threatened her composure, but she managed to hold them back just in time.

"You must make decent tips," she said, forcing a smile to hide her pain.

"From some people," he replied.

If she'd brought a purse, she would have left one even if she didn't order a drink. Her bartender was a nice young man, actually. He was tall, with dark hair and dark eyes and a nice smile. His attractiveness wasn't comparable to Heero's, but there was a pleasing decency about him that put her at ease and he had a sociable manner Heero lacked on his best days.

"Would you like anything to drink?" he asked, setting down the first glass and grabbing another.

"Well…" She stopped when he picked up the second glass. She saw the ring on his finger when he did it, glinting on the fourth finger of his left hand, and politely shook her head. "No. Thank you."

"You're sure you're all right?" he asked.

She nodded. While he put away the glasses, she slipped quietly off her stool and straightened the folds in her dress. It had been a useless flirtation anyway, considering the circumstances, but she wished it had been a real one, if only to make herself feel better.

"Thank you," she said, and left the bar.

She had no sooner turned around when Heero grabbed her arm, his hand tightening around her wrist.

Seeing him appear so suddenly took her aback and she froze for a moment to collect her thoughts, transitioning from despair to the shock and hurt and jealousy that had sent her fleeing before, all of it bubbling out of a well of love that still had not ceased its reckless assault on her failing heart.

"Heero," she said breathlessly.

"What are you doing over here?"

"Nothing." His tone was so accusatory that she immediately thought first of flight or defense. She knew it wasn't nothing, though. She was angry, furious at him for ignoring her and flirting with those other girls when he still held the broken pieces of her heart. She hated him for it. And yet, she knew there was no practical reason to be angry. They were broken up and he was free to see other people if he wanted to… it just wounded her deeply.

Some of the resentment must have shown in her eyes because his took on an equally defensive sheen, only he actually looked angry, like he was barely refraining from yelling at her. His jaw was set in a determined way that made her heart clench with trepidation. She didn't think she could stand it if Heero became angry with her, not when she loved him and he didn't love her. She didn't think she'd ever seen Heero angry with her.

"Let's go somewhere else," he growled, and turned, tugging her along by the wrist.

She stopped, digging her heels in, and pulling back until he released her. "No," she said, holding her wrist close to her, laying claim to herself. Her heart was beating like a drum. She actually felt scared. "I'm fine, really. I'm sorry. Don't worry about me. Go dance. I'm fine. Everything is fine." She tried to smile, but she could barely manage to make her lips curve and knew it came out sickly.

He stared at her with an expression that made her heart want to sink through her feet to be buried under the floor boards. He knew she was lying. He also knew she was trying to appease him by lying. The result was a mix of frustration and condescension that shamed her worse than she already had been.

"Let's go dance," she suggested, knowing it was hopeless now to try and rectify the situation and amend her dignity and not even sure she wanted to do either. Even knowing Heero was annoyed by her reaction, she was still angry. He had brought her to this party. Didn't he understand how fragile she was when it came to him?

He swallowed whatever his idea had been and they reentered the dance floor together. This time, when the ensemble struck up another song, Relena couldn't let go enough to float, much less fly. Heero's hand on her waist was torturous. She couldn't look at his face long enough to appreciate its angles and softer subtleties. Everything she loved about him seemed to mock her until her dancing steps seemed to drag.

Her heart tumbled with it. Before she knew it, she was fighting not to cry—while dancing! Heero hardly looked at her enough to notice. His finger barely grasped her waist. His eyes seemed to drift over her shoulder or behind her head, looking beyond her, locking onto other people in the crowd.

Mid-song, Relena let go of Heero's shoulder. She felt like she was going to throw up again. She didn't look at Heero. She had to get off the dance floor. Without raising her head, she turned and strode away.

"Where are you going?" he demanded.

"I don't feel well," she mumbled, and didn't care if he followed her or not. "Stay and finish the dance if you want."

She almost hoped he snatched up that blonde. At least then she would have more against him. It was a childish thought, but she couldn't help it.

There was a bit of a stir among the couples around them as people glanced over at Vice Minister Darlian as she stumbled off the dance floor. There were remarks made later that she looked like she had some kind of stomach pain.

She shoved her way through the crowd and held her face in a carefully composed mask until she managed to find a door. As soon as she grabbed the handle, her face began to crumble, the mask dissolving in a flashflood of tears that flowed out and would not stop.

"Relena," Heero grabbed her shoulder and turned her around before she had time to fix her face.

"Don't," she said. "Go away."

"Are you mad about those girls?" he growled. He was angry. Angry! "It was just a _dance_."

She flailed at the air, trying to shove him out of her line of vision without making contact, afraid to touch him for fear it would burn her fingers and send a shock to her heart.

"You don't understand," she said. "You don't know how I feel. I can't believe I…" She wanted to stop crying and couldn't. She was afraid someone would see her face. She turned again for the door. "Let me go. Please."

He grabbed her shoulder, stopping her from running. All he really needed to do was call her name. She was powerless against his voice. She hated that. "Relena, stop this. It's childish. Be rational. If you're just going to run away every time you get emotional…"

"I hate you," she said. It just came out, but she knew she meant it. Truth made her voice shake with emotion. Her face was red and tears blotted her makeup and streamed down her cheeks, but she looked him in the eye when she said it. "I hate you. I can't be around you. I don't want to see you anymore."

He couldn't possibly have looked more shocked. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't you understand? I am so in love with you, Heero. I don't care what you've been through or how scarred you are or anything else. I love you and that hasn't changed since the day I met you and it never will. I love you so much and I know that you don't love me. It hurts. It's the worst pain I've ever felt. I hate you now. I can't help it."

"Relena," he whispered. He stepped closer, close enough that they were both in the shadow of the wall. From a distance they must have looked like lovers stealing some time together regardless of the eyes that might have been watching. His hands cupped her face, wiping away the tears under her eyes. His hands felt cool on her cheeks, but her expression remained pained. "Relena, don't say that."

She realized that he was trembling and that there was something close to panic in his eyes, but she didn't care. She pulled her face out of his hands, freeing it from the touch that tormented more than it comforted. "Heero, I can't be friends with you. I love you. You look so good to me. Even now I want…" She swallowed, closing her eyes. The tears came anyway. "I can't see you. I don't think I should talk to you."

He seemed to be fumbling, something she had never seen him do. "Relena, I do love you in a way…" The emotion on his face was in the crinkle of his brow and the slight frantic shimmer in his eyes, not even a hundredth of what she felt with every glance in his direction.

"Don't!" she yelled, and knew that it was too loud. Her shout reverberated off the walls. The music did not falter, but she felt the stares in their direction from the dance floor. Choking back tears, she tried to finish, muting her tone but unable to keep the bite from it. "Don't lie to me. You don't love me."

He didn't deny it. If anything, his expression confirmed it. He really didn't.

"And we can't be friends," she added, feeling a little calmer. "I can't be around you. It's too _hard_. I…" It felt like slicing open a vein and watching the blood run. "I don't want to hear from you anymore."

"Why?" He could barely voice it.

She couldn't look him in the face. It was too hard. She wanted him so much. "I need to get over you."

He didn't understand. It was clear from every nuance of his character, even his silence, that he had no idea what she meant. He understood the words, had surely heard the formula, but he didn't really understand it. He had never felt anything like it himself. He didn't even protest. Maybe he wanted to be rid of her.

"I want to go home," she said in the hush that followed. She needed to get away. Now. Before she lost her nerve.

"Okay." He hadn't said anything that quietly in a long time. "I'll get the keys."

She shook her head. "I don't need you. I'll take a cab." She strode past him, pushing through the open air in a bullet line for the front doors.

He followed her, catching up with a few long strides. He grabbed her shoulder, trying to slow her down, eyes searching in every direction as she plowed brazenly onward. Even when they came to the front doors, she didn't slow.

"Relena, it's dark. The streets are dangerous."

She turned around on the front steps. The security guards lining the steps down to the sidewalk were just out of hearing. Heero stood in the doorway, framed by the golden light of the party, a light that thankfully obscured his features and left most of him a dark outline. She studied it with the expectation that it would be the last time she saw Heero Yuy.

"I don't want you to protect me anymore," she said. "I want you to leave me alone. I don't care if I die and you don't save me. I mean it. I don't want to hear or see any sign of you near me."

He almost sounded desperate. "Relena…"

"I'm not asking!"

"I can't let anything happen to you. If you were killed…"

"_You_ are killing me, Heero! Not terrorists. You. Please, leave me alone. I can't do my job with you around. I can't think. I can't sleep. I love you so much it hurts. I can't do anything with a broken heart and it breaks every time I think of you. Please…"

He didn't say anything, but she knew she had hurt him. She hadn't meant to, but it couldn't be helped. She had to amputate or bleed to death. She was in tears when she continued and no longer cared if anyone saw them. She could hardly speak.

"Please just go. Leave me alone. Just go."

"Don't cry…"

"_Go_."

He turned partially around at her request, but did not walk away. He seemed unable to, looking out at the night behind her as if seeing monsters that would swallow her whole. She didn't care if they did.

"Then I'll go," she said, and tore her eyes away from him.

Without waiting any longer, she turned and ran down the steps. She could easily call for a government licensed car and driver to come pick her up, but she didn't want to take the time or talk on the phone. Instead, she ran down the sidewalk and hailed a taxi. The tears had dried on her face and the night air blew right through her dress, but she didn't care. She didn't care if she was mugged in the street, or kidnapped or killed. She didn't care about anything.

A taxi pulled up to the curve and stopped. She let herself in without looking back and gave her address to the driver with a promise to pay when she got home. The driver recognized her even with her eyes red and swollen and did as she asked. She didn't engage in conversation. She didn't want to talk. Everybody would be talking eventually. For now, all she wanted was silence. She just wanted to get home.

She needed to grieve.

A/N:

I learned while writing this chapter that the comparative form of the adjective "bitter" is "bitterer." Try saying it. "That brand of tea is bitterer than that one. " Oo It's hard to say! I was sure the comparative would be more bitter, but Microsoft Word disagrees with me. Ah well, a new rule in grammar learned everyday.

If you want to see Relena's dress, it's at the following address, though I changed the color. 

And now to request reviews. bows humbly before readers I know the time it takes to read a story and it means so much to me every time you guys come back. If the review feature doesn't work (I know some maintenance days are scheduled for the 17th and 18th) consider sending me an email at I would really appreciate the feedback and you'll get a reply! adores reviewers Thank you so much!


	23. Convergence

Desires of the Heart

Chapter 23

By Zapenstap

By the time she paid the cab driver and stumbled through the front door, Relena did not feel like grieving. Despite shivering in satin, her skin pebbled from the chill in the air, she did not feel the cold. Inside she burned like a furnace, a white-hot fury frothing up from her stomach to her throat until she wanted to scream or throw-up or toss herself to the floor in a storm of angry tears.

"I hate you, Heero, I hate you. I hate you. I hate you!" She cried as she said it, the words ripped from her gut like a barbed blade, dragging out everything with it as it was pulled. She choked and coughed and stumbled to the floor, grateful for the physical pain and subjection she felt as her knees slammed against the wood, wishing she could hurt herself more just for the clarity. Her imagination conjured up images of knives and guns and ropes and chains, tools she could use to commit violence against herself if she was ever so inclined. Would he be sorry _then_? Would he know how much she was hurting _then_?

She wasn't serious about it. Nothing but pain for other, innocent people came from that sort of thing and she had no wish to hurt anyone except herself, not even Heero. She didn't want to hurt even him. She just wanted him to know how hurt he was, how much she hated him and loathed herself for the fool she had let herself be. She wanted herself to know it.

"I am such a goddamned idiot! I can't believe I believed so blindly. I can't believe I…"

Memories bubbled up like grease rising to the surface of a muddy puddle, a swirl of remembered mistakes that made her feel like she was about to sick up at every step. Every uncontested concession, every simpering smile, every time she caressed him to sooth herself, every time she wondered anxiously about his feelings; it all churned together in her stomach, making her feel wasted and dirty and used. The worst was all the smothered pain she felt over how easily she had been convinced to throw her virginity away on somehow who didn't care to think what it meant to her enough to tell her it hadn't been wasted. Overall, that was what had hurt so much. He didn't care. He may care about her, but he didn't _really_ care; he didn't care what she had wanted. He didn't understand. He didn't know what _he_ meant to _her_, how she felt, how she spent every moment trying to make his life better, how every decision to further their intimacy had been weighed and agonized in her mind until she gave over for love and hope of some greater union and deepening feeling between them. But none of that so much as crossed his mind, and in lieu of that understanding, the result was that she was simply inconsequential. He didn't care. Her love was all for nothing. It was worth nothing.

So much for dreams and ideals.

Wiping tears from her cheeks, she pulled off her heeled shoes and threw them against the wall with a raw and ragged cry. The heels crashed into the plaster, leaving ugly marks on the smooth white painted panels before they dropped to the floor with a lifeless thump and lay still, one heel broken and hanging askew. Anger surged and spilled over into tears like rapids into a waterfall. Relena wept anew. She wanted nothing more than to ruin every expensive, shiny and new thing she owned, but it hurt to treat anything like that! She loved those shoes. She probably loved them more than Heero loved her!

From where she sat huddled on the ground, Relena raised her face to look at the phone on the wall just above where her shoes had hit and then fallen. How long since she had left the party? Was Heero still there? Would he stay or go home? Would he worry? Would he call? She stared at the phone through her tears, imagining the sound of it ringing, almost waiting for it like a child waiting to taste the dinner she smelled cooking in the kitchen. She didn't want him to call. She never wanted to hear from him again. But she wished he would call so she could tell him that she loved her shoes more than he loved her, to reject him more thoroughly than she had!

Anger propelled her to her feet. It was time to rid herself of Heero Yuy.

Stumbling up from the floor, she ran barefoot around her home, scanning her counters and shelves and corners for a cardboard box of any decent size. She found one in her kitchen filled with potted plants that she deftly displaced to the table, and careless of the dirt that sprinkled her clean kitchen floor, she turned the box over and carried it into her living room. Still in her evening dress, she deposited it right-side up on the carpet and immediately began to sort through her house for anything to throw into it, anything that reminded her of Heero and would cause her to cry over him a second longer than she had to.

Her search took her to every corner of the house, and she was surprised how much she found lying around that she had kept or held onto, sometimes for years, because it reminded her of Heero or held a promise that he might someday come to be hers. Old pictures, a picture of a night sky she had thought to resemble the color of Heero's eyes, domestic notes from her trips to L1, that blue dress from her fifteenth birthday party with the hem still ripped, the letter from Mrs. Noventa that she had kept because Heero wouldn't take it, everything that even remotely made her think of Heero Yuy went into the box. Rage gave her the strength to chuck even what was most precious to her. The aquamarine pendant that Heero had given her she tossed in quickly as if it burned. She had never known why he had given it to her, but since it was obviously not for love, she did not want it.

At the last, while upstairs scanning for anything that remained, she spotted the bear Heero had left for her on the plane with the happy birthday note she had torn in half but later taped back together. It lay on her bed, a simple thing of innocence and promise, yet it brought a swift and powerful pang of fury to her heart. Heart beat racing as if there was an open wound in her chest through which her blood was flowing, she snatched the offensive creature from its perch and carried it in both hands down to her living room to toss it unceremoniously into the box with the other junk. Looking at that bear lying stiff and flat on its back in a box, she realized she resented it more than anything. It symbolized everything that had led her to despise herself now: innocence and expectation and childish, romantic ideals, everything that had been dashed to pieces.

"I hate you," she said again, and let tears well up in her eyes until she couldn't make out the bear anymore. She wasn't sure if she meant Heero or herself this time.

The house was deathly silent, like a courtroom awaiting the judgment of the jury. No voice or movement other than her own intruded upon the silence, and Relena knew that there wouldn't be. No knock at the door or ring of the phone would stir her private waters. It was all business as usual from here.

Half-blinded by tears, Relena furiously covered the box with a plastic sheet to keep out the dust and taped it shut with packaging tape. Hoisting up the box awkwardly in both arms, she then trucked it down to her cellar, kicking open the door to an empty room she rarely entered and in which she kept very little. She scanned the room for a place to bury the memories of her lover and her _friend_, her friend who deserted her for other women after he had broken her heart and then yelled at her for being upset about it. With the help of a rickety old ladder that she struggled with and cursed at in violent, misplaced anger, Relena managed to ascend to the top shelf in her satin dress and shove the box into the shadows of the far left corner, the corner farthest away from the light emitted by the door. She shoved it for all she was worth.

When she climbed down the ladder and out of the cellar, she felt sick and winded. Her feet were ice cold and the rest of her was shaking and shivering from spent emotions and little to no material covering. As she made her way to her room, she began thinking of what kind of men she liked—none of whom was anything like Heero, or at least had something he obviously lacked. She had to start dating again, preferably quicker than Heero did. In her mind she created someone self-assured and amiable and driven to good in the world, someone more like herself on her best days, someone who would understand her strengths and needs and value her assets and flaws.

Her determination carried her upstairs to her room where she doffed her dress, took down her hair, and pulled on flannel night clothes, something she rarely wore at Heero's because he had preferred she sleep in as few clothes as possible and his body had been warm and comfortable enough to tolerate it. The memory of his body curled around hers as they slept brought a thump in her chest and she trembled self-consciously.

Relena picked up a brush from her dresser and began brushing her hair, not caring how it tangled and split and frizzed from the way it was styled earlier. She wanted to be over Heero as quickly as possible. She had started by packing away everything that reminded her of him and now hoped to soon forget he ever existed. Perhaps by tomorrow she would have accepted the end of his presence in her life. By the end of the week she could forget that she had ever loved him, had ever wanted him, that she had wanted to be with him forever.

The furious brush strokes slowed and then stopped.

Now that there was no hope for it, she could admit it to herself what she had wanted deep down. She loved Heero, loved him enough to marry him, had wanted to marry him, had wanted to be with him and hold him close to her forever, to walk with him in the journey of his life and have him beside her for hers. She had had a dream. She had trusted in him. Subconsciously, she had had it all planned out.

Dropping the brush onto the floor, Relena sank to her knees beside her bed and cried in the grief she could not surrender to immediately. She wept without anger or anguish or hatred or anything except sorrow and pity for herself and her loss. She hated Heero, but couldn't stop thinking about him. She loved him so much, it seared like fire. She had hung all her hopes on him, had felt that she could stop looking and worrying having found him, this person who she felt completed her, complemented her, made her feel that she was worthy and worth something to herself and to the world. God, how she ached! She had been told that break-ups were bad, but she never expected to feel as if her heart had been frozen and blackened and shattered like glass.

When her cries stopped, she found herself staring at the phone. She wanted him to call, she realized. She wanted to call him. Part of her even wanted him back. She wanted to feel his arms around her, to feel the strength and safety of his presence that lent her succor even during her darkest trials. And she hated herself for it. He did not love her, but she feared that she never would realize it, that she would never be able to let him go, that she would always be wishing and waiting for him to come to his senses, take her into his arms, and….

What had gone wrong that he failed to love her? It had started so well. What had she done wrong? How could she make up for it? He could not have any complaints about the way she had treated him, but was she too nice? Too accommodating? She should have played harder to get, put more effort into her important work to impress him. She should have behaved more like the strong, capable person Heero thought she was as a diplomat and an activist, the dignitary or pacifistic princess he and the rest of the world admired. Maybe it was only that girl that a soldier like Heero could love? But _was_ that who she was? Certainly the public believed so, but she couldn't believe that it was wholly true, and especially not now. She wasn't any stronger than the next person, and weaker than some. She cared immensely and worked hard, but that was all. Heero took a lot of the credit others bestowed upon her. And yet, she had been more of a pushover in her relationship with Heero than she had ever been at the office. Had love turned her into a rabbit? It was unconscious if it was true, and a gesture to the strength of her affection. It had bothered her sometimes and it definitely bothered her now, but it bothered her more that he didn't return the feeling.

She had often wondered what Heero would be like in love. Really in love. She imagined his eyes open windows despite his efforts to retain the mirrored mystery, the crumbling of defenses that couldn't stand up to the way love undermined walls from the inside. She imagined him turning aside to hide his feelings and yet unable to do so, imagined him reaching out to hold close whoever it was that caught his heart in a snare and held it fast but tender. She could imagine the way love returned to him would cut down the last supports that kept him solitary, would make him feel wanted and needed and trusted and understood and accepted perhaps for the first time in his life.

She wept thinking of it, because she had never wanted anything more in her life, never wanted to give anyone anything so much as she wanted to give Heero the love she felt for him so powerfully that it made her hate him now. But the way it was, he couldn't understand, accept or experience it. He couldn't even feel it, because he didn't love her in return. And all she could think about while she wept was how she wished Heero understood and how terribly used she felt.

And then it came to her that maybe she could wait. She could not be with him, no, it was too painful. It was impossible to be friends with him either, or be around him at all, but maybe she could keep waiting alone, like she always had, and in time, when his life was more settled, perhaps he would come to... She shook her head vigorously, crying and clenching her eyes shut as if to shake down the thought. Maybe it was futile to wish, but at least until something else came along… The truth of the matter was that she didn't _want_ anyone else.

She welcomed the headache that assaulted her as soon as she couldn't find breath enough to cry or rage any longer.

The phone did not ring that night. She slept with her ears open anyway, tossing and turning in her dreams as she listened for it, recycling events in a mixture of bitter wishes and soul-sundering nightmares. She never wanted to hear from Heero again, but she half-expected him to call because of the hurt she had seen on his face when she told him to leave her alone for good; she wanted him to call as proof that he couldn't do that. She wanted to tell him that he couldn't call. She wanted him to want to!

But the phone didn't ring. And it didn't ring the next day either. Or the day after that. Or for the rest of the week. And still she pined, her desire for valediction burning and ebbing in turns until all she wanted was to be able to talk to Heero and explain how she felt one last time, to let loose upon him all of her anger and love and hope and dismay, and yet knowing that she couldn't, and shouldn't, do any such thing.

* * *

In a twilight morning, the white sickle moon hung in a blue sky bruised black with dark clouds. If Heero had not looked at the clock before he decided to go for a walk, he might have thought it was still evening and that the fever dreams that put a stopper in his sleep had come and gone in the blink of an eye.

He didn't think there was anything peculiar about walking the streets before sunrise, but he supposed some people would find the silence eerie. Though there were a few runners about at this hour, and though he had done some running himself at first, he was walking this particular street alone, the sweat cooling under his shirt as his mind cleared of its brambled thoughts. Soaking in the solitary silence, he reveled in the pacifying atmosphere. The stars twinkling on the horizon were just beginning to fade as the earth rolled closer to the light of the sun and the pavement felt solid under his old, yellow tennis shoes. The cold air refreshed him even as it bit and stung the bare skin on his arms and legs and neck.

His thoughts wandered to his reasons for walking at this hour as he headed back along the boulevard that led to his home. It was unclear what made it difficult for him to sleep. His dreams had been half-shadowed visions that he forgot as soon as he awoke, but they had awoken him so thoroughly that returning to sleep was impossible. Perhaps he had merely gotten used to having someone in his bed and needed to adjust. Or maybe he was feeling guilty, though he could not fathom why.

It had been over a week since the embassy party and though he had felt conflicted over the end of that evening, he had to accept the situation. Struggling to simultaneously define and smother his feelings for Relena while having to see her every day had been a terrible burden. Even so, when he realized he didn't love her, he still hadn't wanted to lose his friendship with her. The support and understanding she offered him was precious, even if he didn't understand why she offered it. He wished Relena hadn't rejected his very presence in his life so dramatically and so finally as she had, telling him she hated him and that she didn't want to see him ever again before running off into the night like she had lost her mind.

He hated her for doing that. It was selfish and rude and made him feel worse for not being able to fix a situation he hadn't asked for and didn't want. She had acted like he _meant_ to hurt her. He wished it hadn't ended that way. Relena meant something to him, and though it wasn't love, to lose her entirely created a void that he felt even while he slept. He just never expected what it would feel like to lose the last thing he had a personal reason to protect. She told him she didn't want his protection. Perhaps she didn't know how much that would hurt and isolate him, but she had expressed quite clearly that she needed to cut him out of her life to save herself. He had to accept that. So regardless of the pain he felt, he suppressed any urge to call her and confuse the matter more. She had told him very specifically that she wanted to be rid of him own so he would let her be.

When Heero arrived on his doorstep, signs of the presence of an unsolicited visitor wiped his thoughts clean of Relena. Instinct trained to recognize when he was not alone made his hackles rise, turning a pacifying atmosphere suddenly hostile. Though the door and windows did not look tampered with, he could _feel_ that someone was in his house that had not been welcomed there. He paused with his hand on the doorknob, withdrawing his gun from where he had tucked it in the waistline of his pants against the small of his back. He thought briefly about entering from a window, but knew his own windows to be locked and censored. Besides, he did not know where the enemy was standing. Windows could be cumbersome entrances, slowing down his ability to move and react.

Hesitation could be deadly. He tested the handle of the door and found it to still be locked, which begged the question of how his uninvited guest had entered the house in the first place. The question needn't be answered immediately. Standing back, he broke down his own door with a well-aimed, power-punching kick and slid out of the way, his back connecting to the wall adjacent to the door frame as the lock gave and the door swung inward. When no immediate gunfire ensued, he leaped into the doorway with his own gun raised and eyes scanning for enemies.

"What are you doing?" the man in his living room said, as if it was perfectly natural for him to be standing there and strange of Heero to break into his own house for no reason. He was a complete stranger, seemingly on a verge between irritated and surprised.

Dropping the hand that held the gun to his side, Heero entered the house cautiously, keeping his eyes on the other man and shutting the door behind him with his foot to keep out prying eyes and cold air. The fit was a little warped now; he would probably have to have it replaced.

"Who are you?" Heero asked.

It bothered him that he had no idea. He was unaware of any plot against him; indeed, there hadn't been a whisper about gundam pilots of gundams or his name in particular in a very long time in any circle he tracked, and he kept very well abreast of those things. What's more, the man in his living room fit no description he could place. He was roughly forty years old or so, perhaps a little more or a little less, tall and physically fit, with a wary eye and a defensive stance that indicated he had seen conflict of some kind in his life, though whether hand-to-hand fighting, mobile suit fighting, the kind of battles Relena undertook in a council room or something else altogether different was impossible to say. He did not seemed disturbed by Heero's gun pointing at his head. The fellow had dark brown hair, brown eyes and pleasant facial features, and he wore clothes that looked expensive if unfamiliar and somewhat out of place. A long-sleeved collared shirt, finely woven dress pants, and a fitted vest with a soft silver sheen were partially covered by a long gray overcoat that hung open. The man had his hands in the pockets of his coat and looked genuinely unalarmed confident of the situation. Dressed to attend a business meeting out of town, the stranger seemed to have been waiting for him.

"I'm looking for Mandred."

So he was here for Mandred. Heero didn't say anything for a moment, grappling mentally with the situation and trying to wrap his thoughts around it. He wasn't worried about Mandred's ability to protect himself, but that didn't make him less wary of this man who entered a stranger's house without an invitation. "Why are you looking for him?"

The man scowled and answered with brevity, his tones clipped and unfriendly. "I'm Ranlath. He knows me. I'm not here to harm him, though I may change my mind about harming you if I lose my temper. Must you point that thing at me? It's distracting."

Heero lowered the gun, but didn't relax his eyes or his voice. "Mandred isn't here and I don't know where he is."

If anything, the man who called himself Ranlath looked more annoyed than before, his eyes matching Heero's glare for skewering glare. "No one knows where he is. You are apparently the last person to have seen him." He looked at Heero as if accusing him of Mandred's disappearance and demanding that he produce the man immediately. "I haven't time to waste searching for him. Do you know where he went or why?"

"No." Heero replied, but a worm of worry made his belly feel cold, enough to make him ask a question in hopes of finding out more about this stranger and his mission. "How do you know him?"

"I'm an old colleague. I'm also a friend of his."

Looking into this strange man's face, and despite the hard, unforgiving lines he saw there, Heero believed him. There was a blunt honesty about him and a sense of efficiency in his nature that was unapologetically rude, but it didn't hold any ill will. It amazed him a little that a man of Mandred's courtesy would befriend a person such as this, though.

"One moment," he said.

Leaving Ranlath to stand in the living room, Heero replaced his gun behind his back and headed for the kitchen to search in a drawer by the refrigerator for the number he had of Mandred's office in the city. It was deeply buried under a pile of inconsequential clutter, but he found it after a few minutes. Returning from the kitchen, he handed his uninvited guest the card. "He works here, or at least sometimes. I would suggest trying there. I don't know where he lives."

The other man took it from him without a word and scanned the address and phone number before handing it back. "He doesn't work there anymore. I've tried it. I've also tried his home, but he doesn't live there anymore."

Heero took the card back with surprise. "What?"

The man's expression named him a fool for not listening the first time. "I said he doesn't work there anymore. His office is empty. So is his house. The head of the department told me that he resigned a few days ago. He left no contact information of any kind. You really don't know where he is?"

"No," Heero replied, hardly hearing what he spoke as he thought. "He's engaged to a woman named Immilie. Maybe you can contact her."

Ranlath looked at him as if looking at a child who gave simple solutions because he didn't know any better. "I have. You don't think I would try her before I tried you? She hasn't seen him either. Why do you think I came way out here to talk to you?"

Heero had nothing to say.

Realizing Heero had no answers, Ranlath swore under his breadth. "You were the last one," he said in deep, resounding tones that echoed off the walls like the clang of doom. "None of Mandred's other wards have heard from him either. Normally, I wouldn't bother with it, but I need him for a project I am working on."

Heero felt hit in the head with a hammer. "Other wards?"

"He was supposed to come to a memorial honoring him for his sacrifice during the war but he didn't show up to that. I would think nothing of it as I rarely do myself, but Mandred usually does, even if it is painful for him."

"Sacrifice?"

"Immilie is convinced that the memorial and his failure to show up for it are connected. If so, it will be more difficult to find him. I was hoping he was simply involved with something else, you or one of the others perhaps."

"What sacrifice?" Heero demanded, and felt his stomach clench. "What other wards?"

Ranlath answered negligently, as if rehearsing something everybody knew and was expected to understand. He seemed to like talking, but not _to_ anyone. "Did you think you were the only one? I don't know if he does it because he misses his own children, but every once and awhile Mandred will help some young person in a difficult situation for a time. He's generous that way, more so than I have ever wanted to be, but I suppose it's therapeutic for him. You are the most recent and with the most tenuous connection to him, but I think he came here last."

"Mandred has kids?"

"Had. He lost his wife and all of his kids in the war. Three sons. Two daughters. A few of them grown with kids of their own. They were murdered because of his involvement, the grandchildren too, leaving him alone and without heirs. It happened a long time ago and he doesn't like to talk about it, but he will during those memorial speeches, if just to avoid having to hear someone else do it."

Heero realized he had stopped breathing and his heart gasped for the air to keep beating even as his mind shrank from this information.

"It doesn't surprise me that you didn't know," Ranlath said. "He doesn't like to talk about it." There was no comfort or remorse in his voice, either for Mandred or Heero. He talked like it was old news, stale news, and that this kind of news was to be expected and relied upon if anything was. Heero had heard people talk like that before, people who had lost a great deal or had little to lose, people like himself. He had always thought Mandred had been removed from that sort of feeling and that was why he was so patient and able to listen and ask questions and mediate the way he did. He had never before considered that Mandred had been there and overcome it.

He remembered what he had said to Mandred the last time he had seen him, and was struck with a pang of guilt that he had cared so little that anything he said could hurt an adult or authority figure. He had told Mandred that he couldn't possibly understand where Heero was coming from or what he had experienced. He had accused Mandred of failing at relationships when he had never inquired if Mandred had had any before Immilie and certainly never considered that the man had had a wife and children at one point in his life, or even wondered why such a kind person was unmarried and without his own children at his age. He had told Mandred to stay out of his life and keep out of his affairs because of a disagreement they had about his choices. Maybe he hadn't agreed with Mandred, and perhaps he had been angry over things that were not Mandred's fault, but did any of that justify what he had said or done? Did it justify expelling someone from his presence who cared about him? He hadn't thought once about Mandred since that night, not seriously, and certainly not with any remorse. Clearly he had thought it was justified. He hadn't missed Mandred's interference and thought it ended there. He never considered that Mandred might seek his company for his own sake.

"I don't know where he is," Heero said. He struggled between feelings of resentment and horror, resentment because all of this information about Mandred's family had been kept from him so that he had made such a costly mistake and horror for understanding why such information was not easily shared. "I didn't know," he said quietly. "I may have said something that hurt him. Immilie may be right."

Ranlath was silent, looking at him with dark eyes that pierced without warmth or comfort or forgiveness. They cut through flesh and bone to stab his heart and did not seem to care that they were doing it. "I see," he said, and strode past Heero toward the door.

Heero didn't stop him from going. He felt skewered where he stood, and wondered briefly if his own eyes looked like that when people said he shouldn't glare.

Forcing his legs to move, he sat down on the couch, looking at the closed door Ranlath had left through, the same door Mandred had stormed out of and Relena had run through in a storm of tears…twice.

Was Mandred's disappearance his fault? He wondered what it would feel like to have someone he cared about like a son or daughter open old wounds without realizing they were doing so and then discard him as if he didn't matter. Heero wondered how he could have cared so little not to realize that the chill in Mandred's voice that night was not so much anger as it was carefully controlled pain. He couldn't imagine how much it would hurt to be accused of hurting someone when you only cared about them and then be hurt so viciously in return. For the first time that he could remember, he felt ashamed. It had never crossed his mind to worry about Mandred's feelings or experiences. He had assumed he would not feel anything, or would be able to recover quickly at least. Perhaps it was reminiscent of how young people thought adults were supposed to stay strong, strong enough to take any amount of emotional knocks from those who resided under their authority, but it went further than that, he realized; he wasn't used to worrying about other people's reactions to things he did and said in general.

"What do I do now?" he whispered.

There was no one to answer back.

He stared at the door awhile longer, rethinking everything from the night he had last seen Mandred, and then realized with a terrible sting that he _did_ know what it felt like to care about someone and have them hate and revile you. Relena. Come to think of it, it had been Relena that he and Mandred had argued about, though his thoughts had been mixed up with more complicated things then.

The war.

It was only with begrudging pain that he could admit that it did still affect him and did so significantly. Maybe it had affected all his relationships in ways he couldn't entirely understand. What he knew was that he had been careless and driven away everyone who cared about him. Surely his attachment to loneliness and his openly unconcern with others was partly because of his conditioning during the war. And though he didn't want to lose Relena entirely now, he had to face that it might be because he still needed someone to protect. At heart, he was till a soldier and everything he did and cared about fed back into that mentality. Busying himself with girls, exploring his sexuality, dating Relena, all of that had served to refocus his attention in ways he had needed. He liked having a woman in his life. It was pleasurable and had nothing to do with fighting. Maybe that was all he had wanted out of the relationship, but it was not what Relena had wanted. And he had hurt her because of it.

What did that mean?

For the first time since he had begun to sever all his closest connections, Heero felt the terrible weight and fear of loneliness.

He needed to think.

* * *

Bright stage lights blinded Relena's view of the audience, but with a crowd of over a thousand people and cameras broadcasting worldwide to whoever watched government programming, Relena was just thankful that the spotlight was not on her alone, at least not today. As the youngest member of a guest panel of five prominent, peace-cooperative program leaders, she sat at an honorary but perfunctory place just to the left of Programs Director Tom Avery, a well-known political figure who had recently announced his intention to run for the ESUN presidency next year. He was decent enough for a politician, but like many, he was more selfish than sensitive and prone to assertions and promises made mostly of hot air.

A journalist addressed the panel with a question. "Is there really no longer a threat of military weapons being commissioned secretly in Space, and does this mean that there will be no further investigations of former military manufacturers?"

Avery folded his hands in a calming gesture and addressed the crowd in sure, smooth tones. "Those with the capabilities of manufacturing weapons will still be kept accountable and routine investigations will continue. What the president has said is that heavy legislation on the production of machinery is halting progress in the economy and must be lightened in these times of peace. Holding onto the expectation of war will breed its continued threat. If people will let go of their fear, I am sure we will find the world cooperative with our ideal."

Relena remained silent but supportive, aware that there would be eyes that turned to see whether or not she agreed with what Avery had just said. On another day Relena might have wished to hold the floor herself and with it the hearts of the people, but her passions had cooled out of necessity to keep a reign on her emotional outbursts and recently she had felt herself loosing sight of what she had fought so hard for earlier in her career. She had taken a backseat in political affairs in the last year or so, even before she began dating Heero, but that was because things had been relatively peaceful and cooperative enough for her to take a break. Her more significant deterrence occurred as a result of her failed relationship with the one person who had given her strength and purpose in all that she had set out to accomplish with her life. She knew how important it was that she reinstate her position when worries likes these resurfaced in the public, but she didn't think she had the stamina, not today. Her nerves were as brittle as blown glass. She had cried again this morning. It was all she could do to _look_ composed today. Her strength had gone with Heero.

When a second question was being asked, this time directed more particularly toward one of the other members of the panel, Relena allowed her gaze to stray momentarily to the balconies. Empty.

"The Weapons Disbarment Program has been successful world-wide," Avery interjected.

"Have the Colonies completely disarmed as well?" a man asked.

"The Colonies are cooperating with the treaties drawn up between Earth and Space," Avery replied. "They are subject to the same investigations as the Earth."

"A question for Vice Minister Darilan," the voice of another reporter came from the crowd. "Is there any truth to the rumors that there are still factions that believe peace can not be achieved without force and are willing to use force to prove it?"

Relena looked up and the cameras displayed a close up of her face on the monitor, youthful and angelic, seeming to glow under the lights. Her heart was like a block of ice under pressure now, but it didn't show through on her face. She held onto a serious, but warm expression, necessary considering her age and the tabloid-fueled rumors circulating about her breakdown at the embassy party over unrequited love, and spoke with clear, insightful brevity.

"There is no evidence in any of our investigations that suggest those rumors are true," she said. "Though the people of Earth are understandably nervous about being defenseless, our hope in maintaining a peaceful world rests in the endurance of individuals to believe in one another's good intentions."

It was perhaps the first thing she had said openly to the public in the weeks following her last public appearance at the embassy. The people in the audience were silent when she spoke, hopeful and encouraging, eyes turning on her as one, listening to her words with a confidence she couldn't muster in herself even on her best days. Not anymore. But she hid it well. Despite her internal listlessness, she had been a professional machine the last few weeks. Nothing could crack her.

"Miss Darilan," another reporter chimed in, "it has been rumored that following the current president's term you may run for president yourself. I know I personally would feel a lot safer about the peace of the World Nation with you as our emblematic leader. Is there any truth to the rumor that you may run?"

Everyone was listening. It was something that had come up before and for some reason did not seem to offend the current administration. Avery may scowl a bit, but then, he would. Despite how she felt, Relena answered with the strength that she knew the public expected of her.

"I have not made any public declaration of running for the presidency," she said. It was always best to give an ambiguous answer.

She was glad that she couldn't make out any faces in the audience due to the brightness of the lights.

She knew Heero was not there.

After the press conference ended, Relena avoided additional questions and exited the building as quickly as she could, begging the need to attend to business even though she did not think she could handle going over reports right now. She even fended off Olivia's attempts to inquire after her health and ask tentatively how she was doing. Relena suspected that the young environmental lobbyist knew she had broken up with her soldier lover and wanted to befriend her, but Relena could not afford sharing her pain with anybody connected to the government who might leak her vulnerability to the public. People knew too much already just from guessing and Olivia had a political agenda in wanting to earn her friendship. Of course, Relena's refusal to talk to anyone in government effectively cancelled her options to vent with everybody she knew and so the pain in her heart festered.

She really didn't have any friends.

"Well, well. If it isn't Relena Darilan."

Relena turned at the sound of such an impudent hail, but was angrier that she was fighting back tears on government property in broad daylight, the streets swarming with the press, affiliated members and curious civilians. In one of her best suits, white with a blue silk shirt tucked into her skirt and covered by a business coat, she reflected the light and stuck out like a sore thumb on a blistering, sunny day like today.

When she saw who had hailed her, her mouth went dry and what buoyancy remained in her heart deflated into shame.

Wufei Chang sat on one of the thick stone railings that bordered the wide steps leading up to the building. People streamed past around and between them, some giving Relena a curious look of recognition, but she hardly noticed. As much as she wanted to avoid Wufei, she did not believe she could, so she just stood there, waiting for whatever he was about to say and dreading it. She was still raw around the edges; she wanted nothing left then to be poked where she was wounded.

"You don't look so good," he said, jumping off the railing and sauntering toward her in civilian clothing of a Chinese cut and traditional style. He was not on duty today apparently; she wasn't sure if that boded well or ill for her. The lilt in his tone might have been derisive, or merely a casual observation; it was difficult to read his emotions.

She didn't know what to say. His comment only made her wonder if her pain was obvious to everyone. He obviously knew.

"Wufei Chang…" she began. The last time they spoken, he had belittled her expectations for her romance with Heero, deservedly so, she realized now, though truth didn't necessarily make his comments to her any less blunt or cruel. Tears stung her eyes as she thought about Wufei being right, and the stupidity of her own mistake. Overwrought, she lowered her head to hide the sudden misting in her vision, pretending to have something stuck in her eye.

It was with surprise and trepidation that she felt Wufei's hand close over her wrist.

"Come on."

"Wha…?" she protested.

"I'll take you somewhere."

That's how she found herself seated in a Chinese tea house across from a man she had never been friendly with and whom she had little personal interaction. She trusted Wufei after a fashion because he had been a gundam pilot and she heard praiseworthy things about him from time to time through mutual acquaintances, but she was wary of him because he did not like her and had embarrassed and confused her at their last meeting. Still, from what she knew from other sources, Wufei was honorable and responsible and had (or at least desired) a very fixed idea about good and evil and right from wrong. In a way, that resonated with her, though she suspected her and Wufei and had some differing ideas about what was right and what was wrong and what was neither one nor the other. More importantly, he was a private person and very likely strongly opposed to gossip. But before she could decide whether or not to trust him, he decided for her.

"You broke up," Wufei said when the waitress left them with a kettle and two tiny porcelain cups without handles. Not even having had time to open her mouth, Relena flushed. "Don't be embarrassed," Wufei added wryly, seeing her reaction. "I just put two and two together. You're probably aware that there are some rumors, but I haven't heard anything I would give any real credit to."

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked. "To mock me?" She felt cold inside, stifling the pain in her heart with icy indifference so that it wouldn't leak out her eyes.

"You looked like you needed someone," he answered, and poured her a cup of tea. She watched his face while he did it. It was a kind face in many ways, lacking expression but resonating with a serenity that hadn't been there during the war. It comforted her to see that kind of calm, though she resented the insinuation that she was weak and needed help. But then, maybe she did. He lifted the kettle and pushed one of the steaming cups her way. "Don't start to think I'm particularly sensitive to you," he added. His tone was not unfriendly, but neither was it particularly warm. "We don't know each other well and politicians aren't my favorite people. I just couldn't leave a woman in your position crying on the steps. You looked like you were about to drown in something that's probably been building for awhile and it wasn't a good time or location for it. Don't you have anybody to talk to?"

Relena's mute response was probably answer enough. She sat in her chair with her hands folded in her lap and her head down, staring into the steam rising out of her tea cup. Her throat felt too constricted to drink. She felt terrible. And lonely. More so everyday. It was quite a shock, going from seeing somebody nearly everyday to seeing nobody at all. She had no one to talk to; the one person she desperately wanted to call wouldn't because she had told him not to.

Her face must have looked about to break apart, because the harsh quality of Wufei's voice dropped to the kind of tone people used when talking to wounded animals. "Please don't cry."

"He hurt me," she let out, and tears came with it, though she managed to keep the agony from her voice and stopped the flow after the first few fell. She felt so ashamed, crying in a restaurant when he asked her not too, though it was fortunate that the tea shop was arranged in such a way that none of the other patrons could see them. She covered her eyes with one hand and dashed the tears from her cheeks quickly, knowing she must look weak and only able to guess how contemptuous he must be of her. "I'm sorry. I know how I must seem to you."

Wufei merely sipped at his tea, averting his eyes from her face until she managed to clear it, as if pretending he did not see and didn't know what she was talking about.

Relena took a deep breath. "You were right," she said with more composure. "About what you…implied…when we met before. Heero doesn't love me." It only hurt a little to say it out loud. "I must have been a fool to think he did. I just don't know what I did wrong."

This time Wufei did look contemptuous, if merely in the curve of his lip. "You're a fool only if you think you did something wrong. So he doesn't love you. I can't say I'm surprised, but that's hardly your fault."

"Oh, it's not?" she said, and couldn't keep the sharpness off her tongue just for the cheek of his reply. "I suppose you know a great deal more about it than I do." She couldn't believe that she had thought he was going to be nice to her for a moment!

"I don't know anything about your relationship," he replied dismissively. "But I do know Heero well enough to say that it doesn't surprise me that he doesn't love you."

"Why?"

Wufei shook his head. "I would be surprised if Heero was ready for a committed relationship with anyone. He's been living on the edge of society since the war ended, sort of hanging on between two worlds, neither able to let go of one nor transition into the other. I know what that's like because I feel it too. I haven't seriously dated anyone since the war ended. The difference between me and Heero is that I know what a serious relationship is like and he has no idea."

Relena took a sip of her tea, grateful for the warm liquid to sooth her nerves. "When were you in a serious relationship?"

"Before the war, I was married." Wufei smiled at her expression. "Don't look so shocked. It's a custom and I was more or less obligated. I'd rather not go into details if that's okay with you, but suffice it to say that I knew less about women then and Sally Po will tell you that I don't know much now, configure that as you may. My wife died because I failed to take her seriously in time to do her any credit."

Relena did feel shocked, but she kept it out of her face and listened as Wufei sketched a brief, impersonal account about his subsequent reasons for getting involved in the war and his efforts to cope with it now that it was over. As a civilian, it seemed that Wufei had reverted to who he had been before he became a gundam pilot. He was well-educated and had been groomed for leadership and governance of his family affairs growing up, making him somewhat of a snobbish and self righteous scholar, and in the last few years he had returned to that, trading his guns for books except where his work as a Preventor was concerned. He noted that a lot of what he gleaned from literature throughout his education and personal studies in the past had defined his view of the world and polarized his codex of right and wrong, notions that became very confused in a war that seemed to turn any value system on its head and twist morality inside out.

"What made Heero a great soldier," Wufei continued, segueing smoothly out of his own history and into what was relevant for Relena, "was that he didn't adhere to a morality system outside of a soldier's discipline and objectives. He wasn't a machine, but he acted like one to the best of his ability. I'm sure he had notions and feelings about what was right and wrong, things that were honorable and not honorable for a soldier to do, but he didn't name it or categorize it or try to explain it; he just went with whatever felt right in the moment and didn't look back. The first and foremost thought in Heero's head has always been that he doesn't matter, that soldiers are expendable tools, and that the thorough execution of the mission takes priority over everything except where the result makes the objective meaningless. That last part confused him as it did all of us. In the war, people died who no one had any intention of killing and objectives were worked and reworked from so many angles and with so many unpredictable results that it was a struggle for us, the implementers of others' schemes, to maintain a sense of purpose in what we were doing."

"That was what angered you, wasn't it?" Relena interjected. "That the people who schemed were above the implementation of their own ideals and didn't seem to care who fought and died to bring them about. That is, until Treize died for his own cause." And then there was she herself, who had talked about peace but left it to others to achieve, a peace that could only be gained at the expense of soldiers who would have nothing left to fight for once it was implemented. She knew that Wufei had resented her for that, but apparently he had forgiven her for it.

"I had my own demons to face there," Wufei said with a negligent wave of his hand. "My point is that Heero has conditioned himself as a soldier all his life and doesn't have a civilian identity to return to, except as a wayfarer. Most men are glad to leave that part of their lives with the dead and go home as the people they really are, or who they used to be before they were trained to kill with guns. Heero doesn't know how to do that. He doesn't want to fight anymore, but carving out a new identity is going to take more than a girlfriend."

Relena knew all that Wufei had said about Heero and the hardships he now faced because of his past. She often thought about it. "So you think Heero doesn't love me because he isn't ready? Because of the war?" She bit her lip, staring into the swirling eddies of her tea. "I asked him about that, and he said that wasn't it, but if what you say is true, then maybe with time…"

"No."

Relena released her cup, eyebrows knitting in consternation. "I don't understand. What then are you trying to tell me?"

"I said that Heero wasn't ready for a relationship," Wufei told her. "Not loving someone and not being ready for a relationship are different things, unless he lied about one because of the other, but I can't see Heero doing that in this situation. It wouldn't be logical. He wouldn't have anything to gain by it."

"Then are you saying Heero is incapable of love? I don't believe that."

"No," Wufei said. "I'm saying he's not likely to _try_ and love anyone to make a relationship work or think about doing so. It's possible for any man in any situation to fall in love and make it work if the feeling is true enough and he wants it badly enough, but from the way things seem to have gone between you and Heero, that is not the case here."

Relena leaned against her hand, closing her eyes to slow the dizzying confusion in her head. "Then what am I to do?"

Wufei looked surprised. "Do? Nothing. Forget about him."

Relena felt her stomach give a tremulous lurch. She had had the same thought numerous times, but hearing Wufei suggest it so casually made her feel like she had swallowed her heart. "I can't," she said. "I've tried. "I'm trying so hard to forget him, but I…" She remembered the hours she spent starring at nothing, thinking nothing, writing nonsense in her journal in a vain attempt to wipe him clean from her thoughts. "I find myself thinking that someday he might realize…"

If she had doubt that there was contempt in Wufei's voice before, she didn't now. "Don't be stupid. You can't wait. You'll just be wasting your time."

"But I _know_ Heero..."

"Stop," Wufei said sharply, and she clicked her teeth shut. "You told me Heero doesn't love you. He never did. He doesn't now. He's probably not going to. In any case, it would be weak and foolish to wait for him. He doesn't want you."

"But all that we've been through…" she persisted.

"He doesn't love you." Wufei repeated the verdict as if she hadn't made a protest.

Relena couldn't believe it. "During and after the war he protected me, fought for me, believed in me…"

Wufei leaned forward, one elbow on the table. "Relena. Listen to me: _He doesn't love you._ Not the way you want. If he did, you would know it. You wouldn't have doubts. It would be everything you wanted; if he really wanted it, Heero would be as thorough about romancing a girl as anything else he's done. I'm sure he cares about you and I know he believes what you believe in and certainly the history the two of you share affects your lives and your relationship, but he doesn't feel what you feel. He's not going to be spending his time right now thinking about being your boyfriend and having regrets about what might have been. For one thing, Heero doesn't think like that. If he doesn't love you, he doesn't love you. He's tried it and it's obviously not what he wants at this time or you would have heard from him already. Whatever he does now is none of your business. Let him go. Don't wait."

Relena struggled against the harsh clarity of Wufei's reasoning, fidgeting in her seat and clenching her hand around the tea cup until she was afraid she might break or spill it.

"Why?" she demanded, and trembled with the ferocity of an irrational sentiment, banging a fist against the table and struggling to smother the volume of her outburst. She closed her eyes to fight the emotional storm. "Why doesn't he suffer more? Why do I have to feel all the pain? I can't _think_ without him. I can't sleep at night and I feel like I'm in a dream when I'm awake. My life seems to have no meaning. I hate him and I love him and I can't stand it! I feel so wronged by everything that has happened, the way my feelings were treated. Surely, he's entitled to feeling _some_ remorse! If he understood how much I love him…" She had to stop and cover her eyes to hide the tears. "Why do I still want to see him so much?"

Wufei looked at her with sympathy but voiced no answers. He had listened and told her what he had wanted to say, which was to forget Heero and move on. Looking across the table, Relena wanted to believe that he was right and that it would be a simple mental adjustment on her part to do that, but she found it difficult to even entertain the idea. No matter what the outside world observed or even if she thought the outside perspective was right, she couldn't banish the feelings and confusions that kept a part of her tethered to Heero's heart. She loved him and that love simply would not die.

The pity in Wufei's eyes might have been contemptuous; it was hard to tell. "You're going to do what you're going to do," he said at last. "I'm just trying to offer you some perspective. I know from my own experiences that sometimes it takes running a mistake into the ground before you can let it go. So if you have to do that to get over Heero, then do it and be done with it."

The cup of tea was almost gone and the porcelain was no longer warm. She shivered in her seat. "I told him I never wanted to speak to him again," she said wearily. "I told him I hated him, that I didn't want his protection even if my life was in danger. I'm not afraid to die. I'm not afraid of anything so much as I'm afraid of what Heero does to my heart."

Wufei looked at her silently for a moment. "You're a strong woman in a lot of ways," he said finally, "though not in the ways I'm used to thinking. You're not a warrior for the battlefields I've fought in, but I've been following your political proposals and I have to admit that you fight hard and you fight fair. You have a good handle on the human condition. Maybe your sensitivity helps with that. My motivation in giving you all this advice is selfish, but I'll let you know what I think. You seem to have some unresolved issues with Heero. You need to deal with them and get over it. You've tied yourself to a sinking ship and if you want to stay afloat, you need to cut yourself loose. If you can manage to do that, you might be able to use your influence to do some good in the world."

Relena was momentarily struck speechless.

"You really told Heero not to come near you even to protect your life?" Wufei asked when she did not respond.

"Yes," she said bitterly. "And I meant it. I still find myself wishing he would call and I miss him terribly, but even with that, I meant it." She sighed. "There's just a lot I haven't told him and I wish I could. I realize the contradictions are baffling. I don't know what that makes me."

"Do you think he would really stay away if your life was in danger?" Wufei frowned. "I can't see him doing that."

"I don't know," she replied. "It was probably cruel of me to even ask it of him. He would probably never forgive himself if something happened to me, but I did mean it. I want him back and I want him to love me, but if I can't have that, then I never want to see him again. He doesn't understand how much it hurts to be around him knowing he doesn't care for the way I feel."

Wufei grunted and poured her a new cup of tea, muttering that maybe brandy would have been better. She smiled at him, but even the warm porcelain between her hands couldn't heat the chill that spread throughout her body from the cavity in her heart.

* * *

Heero didn't tell Duo why he called on him to come down and deliver some packages personally. He just let the other pilot guess.

"So you're back in the surveillance business, huh?" Duo asked, trying to get Heero to give him some answers. "Are you working secretly for the Preventors?" He flipped one package over and looked at the label before tossing it into his truck. "Who do you know in Bremen?" There was a Space Port in Bremen, but Heero didn't tell Duo that.

"I'll need you to come back again sometime for some heavier things," Heero said.

Duo shrugged and patted the door of his truck. "Sure. No problem. Just give me a call. I'll be back in town again on and off over the next few months." As he made to open the door and climb in, Heero stopped him with a pointed question.

"Are you going to marry Hilde?" Heero asked.

Duo tipped his cap back. "What?"

"Are you going to marry Hilde?"

"Well…um, I don't know. Probably. I mean I want to, but it's not a good idea right now financially…" He paused, his wide eyes blinking in confusion. "Where the hell did that come from?"

"How do you know you want to marry her?"

"I don't know. I just know. That's a weird question, Heero. I guess I imagine my life with her as my wife and I like it. Why? Are you going to marry Relena?"

"No. We're not together anymore."

Duo closed the door of the truck slowly. "What happened?"

"We broke up."

He was still conflicted about what he was feeling, but hadn't decided what to do about it. He didn't miss her, not as a girlfriend, but sometimes he felt a chill pass through him when he thought of her, especially when he thought of the tears on her cheeks and the harsh way she had told him to leave me alone. Don't protect her. Don't call. He wished she hadn't said any of that.

"I hurt her," he confessed. "I didn't mean to."

"Well," Duo paused, floundering for a minute. "I'm sorry, man. I don't know what to say. I guess maybe it just wasn't meant to be. Do you miss her?"

"Not really. Sometimes."

He didn't know for sure. Now that she was gone and had made it explicitly clear that she did not want to see him again, he found himself adrift without an anchor. He knew he hadn't wanted to be tied down to Relena, hadn't wanted to love her or have her as a girlfriend. He knew he had been suffocating with her, pulled under by the expectations she had for him that he sensed even if she never said it. But wanting to be free was not the same as wanting to be entirely cut off. Now that he was truly on his own, he realized that he not been entirely honest when he told Relena he didn't love her. The part of him that sought solace in her from his memories of war, the part of him that believed in what she stood for, and took honor in being her protector, cared about her in a way that was deep and lasting and beyond mere interest or attraction. Now that there were no expectations, when no one else was around to hear it, he could call it love, but he also knew that it wasn't the love she wanted from him.

"Well, let me know if you need anything else," Duo said awkwardly. He was filling out the forms of transaction, passing them over to Heero for a signature. "You know, it's good seeing you, even if it's for business."

"Likewise," Heero said, handing back the clipboard.

Duo smiled, looking a little surprised and genuinely pleased. "Thanks, Heero, you know, for the business. I'd stay around longer to catch up and stuff, but I have a flight to catch back to the Colonies and if I miss it there will be hell to pay at home." He laughed. "You know, Hilde doesn't like being alone any longer than necessary. She misses me and it gets lonely. I've been thinking about getting her a cat or a dog or something at least. When I can afford it anyway."

"Maybe both."

Duo grinned uneasily, as if not sure how to take that. Heero didn't bother to elaborate.

"Best of luck with everything," Duo said as he climbed into his truck.

Heero nodded silently as Duo gave him a wave and watched the other ex-pilot drive away from his doorstep. The sun hunkered down on the edge of the backdrop, framing the form of the departing truck in a burst of ruddy fire. As Duo drove away, Heero was left alone in a golden world fading slowly into darkness.

Going inside, he stood at the window and watched until a blanket of night swallowed the last light of the sun. He didn't know what he was thinking, but it was dark and forbid any kind of disturbing movement. He felt like a pond at midnight, dreading the stone that caused the mirrored surface to ripple. Even Ted seemed to sense his mood, lying still as death in front of the door. The chill in Heero's bones felt heavy. Seeing Duo had made him feel less alone for a moment, but it did not make him feel better about his place in the world or the bleakness of the future.

Heero still had not heard from Mandred, and wondered if Ranlath had found him or if he would ever hear from him again. He wondered if he was all right.

He wanted to talk to someone.

Just as he found himself contemplating the phone, not sure who he would call, he was caught by an urgent beep coming from his laptop. Blinking, he crossed the room to open the lid and accept the connection request for a live sound feed without video.

"Heero?"

"Trowa," Heero confirmed. The voice was unmistakable.

"Hey, I heard about Relena. I'm sorry."

The public knowledge on top of his own feelings of uncertainty brought a swift pang to his heart. He wondered how Trowa had heard, but not very hard. It wasn't important. "It's fine," he said.

"Good. I wasn't going to ask if it was too complicated, but we have a situation here."

His heart jumped and his mouth dried out, the tenseness in his shoulders doubling. "Something to do with Relena?"

"We're not sure of the objectives yet. It may not accumulate into anything at all, but if it does, and she's in any danger… well we can send someone else down there, but I wanted to ask you about it first. You're the obvious person."

Relena had told him not to protect her anymore; that she didn't care if she died as long as he stayed away. Did she mean it? Could he really stay away if she was in peril, regardless of what she said?

Perhaps this was the test. He could take her telling him she hated him, but he would protect her at all costs. Grimacing, he made his voice hard, dark and still as his vision of that undisturbed pool. Professional. This was business.

"What do you need me to do?"

TBC


	24. Before it all Settles

Desires of the Heart

Chapter 24

By Zapenstap

The building was roped off with white ribbon before the first limousine arrived; a large section just beyond the steps sanctioned off for the explicit privilege of the press and designed to contain it there. Beyond the red carpet, passed the giant glass doors flung open to welcome the throng, special-pass news reporters, lobbyists, and spin talkers thronged in whirlpools and eddies that circulated around the notable politicians and policy-makers that roamed the black-tiled lobby just in front of the auditorium. Inside, technicians, building maintenance and event staff personnel milled around making last-minute adjustments to the equipment on stage and the seating arrangements in the audience before the crowd outside could be let in and seated.

Relena was the only notable who had snuck into the auditorium early just to escape the mob in the lobby. Most of her colleagues were taking the opportunity to campaign to the public, but Relena simply didn't have the energy. Even though she had agreed to introduce him, she didn't have the same passion for Tom Avery as a candidate for ESUN president that brought so many others out in force tonight. Avery was a qualified, level-headed and dedicated politician, but not much more; he simply lacked the luster that would serve to inspire Relena on a day like this.

She had also taken the opportunity to duck in here because she had seen a few Preventors roaming the hallways, those who were specifically called in for standard security, and also a few in disguise. The disguises didn't fool Relena; she knew half of the department by face and name because there were Preventors at every public (and sometimes private) event she attended, whether they were asked to be there or not, and she made a point to identify who was secretly watching out for her. More often than not, the Preventors were there for her specific protection. She just hated to be reminded of it, especially when she felt so down about herself and her work in the world, and she didn't want to be forced into conversation with anyone she and Heero both knew.

At least she had the peace of mind of knowing that Heero himself would not be here, not tonight and never again, not if he obeyed her wish. At least there was that. She wouldn't have to worry about running into him. It was bad enough walking around with a heart that seemed made of clear, hollow glass without having to worry about it shattering.

Standing at her side just below the stage, Relena's lobbyist companion Olivia looked at her with concern. "Are you all right? You look a little pale. Have you eaten today?"

"I just need some peace and quiet," Relena replied, shaking her head and blinking her eyes as if she had a headache. "Maybe I am a little hungry. There's a room in back which provides refreshments. I'll be back in a moment." She took a few strides toward the stage and bit back a sigh as Olivia moved to follow. "You don't have to come with me."

"No, it's all right," Olivia replied, either oblivious to the subtle request to be alone or determined against it. "I don't mind. I could use some coffee if there's any available."

Climbing onto the stage, Relena ignored the curious looks of the event staff and led the way behind the curtains, slipping unceremoniously into the dark-paneled entrance just to the right of the stage. Olivia followed doggedly as Relena made her path backstage to a door in the back that opened into an empty conference-style room where a water dispenser, coffee, and doughnuts had been set beside a large rectangular table for those who would appear on stage during the two or three hour event. After holding the door open long enough for Olivia to pass by her, Relena let the heavy white door swing shut on her heeled shoes and headed to the water dispenser for something cool to splash down her throat.

"Is this a secure area?" Olivia asked, glancing around the tiny room suspiciously as if looking for cameras.

"Yes," Relena replied. She downed her cup of water and refilled it before pulling out a chair to sit in. "We're allowed to talk in here. Why? Is there something on your mind?"

Olivia pulled out a second chair and sat down facing her, looking anxiously into her face. "Forgive me, Miss Relena, but you haven't been yourself recently and it has been distressing the people around you. I thought maybe you might want to talk."

Relena stared at Olivia's freckled face and bouncing curls and wondered what on earth she was supposed to say.

"I know that what you had going with that young man—Heero?—didn't work out," Olivia interjected, speaking quickly as if embarrassed and feeling the need to rush just to get the words out. "Not that I listen to rumors, but I've had plenty of trouble with men myself and I know the signs. I thought maybe you might want to talk about that? It's okay if you don't, but…" She trailed off when Relena made no indication that she was going to respond, faced flushed so that her freckles seemed to pop out of her skin. "I hope I haven't offended you."

"I'm not offended," Relena said. "I just don't know what to say about it. It's over."

Just because her relationship with Heero was over didn't mean she was over it, but she had kept her feelings so bottled in that they were difficult to talk about. Her emotions were pressurized to the point that she felt like a whining tea kettle left too long on the boiler. She hadn't been able to tell Wufei everything, not about how stupid and dirty she felt for sleeping with a man who did not love her, giving her heart and body to him only to be stepped on and cast aside without regret. She sensed that Olivia's offer to listen was an honest approach and not the malicious addiction of a gossip, and that eased her distress, but only a little. She really did want to talk about it; she just didn't know how to say what she felt without making herself feel even worse about everything, as if admitting that she felt spoilt would take it out of her control and make it real.

"Well maybe you could tell me what happened? I mean why you broke up?" Olivia ventured bravely.

"Oh, he just… We didn't want the same things," Relena said a little too quickly, and knew she sounded evasive. "He didn't feel the same way that I did about the relationship." The pain trapped in her breast welled up with the words, but she forced it down, listening to the steady pounding of her heart and wondering why it didn't burst right out of her chest. There was so much she was feeling.

Olivia was silent for a minute, possibly thinking about what she could say that would be comforting but not too personal, but the longer she was quiet, the more the emotions trapped in Relena's heart fought for release, and she found herself lurching into speech again before the other woman could say a word.

"He never loved me," she said, and the more she talked the easier it was to keep going. "He never loved me, but I loved him. I thought he was the one." For some reason, it was the last part that was hardest to bear; that she loved him and had wanted him in her life always. It was that that made everything so difficult for her, the unrequited feeling that couldn't be satisfied and wouldn't dissipate. She leaned her fevered forehead against the back wall, slumping slightly in her chair. "He was also my first," she said finally, and it was a great relief to say it, even as she was terrified by the secrets, the evidence of mistakes made, that were coming out of her mouth. "I slept with him thinking he was in love with me, and I was so happy. It was what I had been dreaming about for years, and then…" She felt tears coming and immediately stopped speaking, deadening her mind and heart to avoid that kind of outburst, thinking of nothing but blank white space.

"It fell apart?" Olivia finished for her. "Did he tell you he loved you to get you in bed?"

"No," Relena said, and sighed half in relief and half in bitterness. "In his defense, I have to admit that he never lied to me openly about how he felt, but I almost wish he had. At least then I wouldn't feel like such an idiot. I gave up everything of myself for him. And I don't just mean my virginity. I believed in everything we had together. Even though we had never discussed where it was going or how we felt about each other, I still _believed_ that he and I shared the same vision, and that we had finally come together in a way that would last forever. I thought I had been put on Earth to fight for him, to ease his pains and be there for him. I thought he had come to Earth to believe in me. I thought we were made for each other. It never even crossed my mind that he wouldn't love me."

Olivia's expression reflected the sorrow Relena felt. "First love experiences are often painful ones."

"I just wish I hadn't slept with him," Relena murmured into the empty space just beyond her lips, almost too low to be heard. "If I could take back anything, it would be that."

"Really?" Olivia said, sounding surprised. "Why?"

Relena stared at the far wall, thinking of how she had dismantled her own resistance just to experience the pleasure of Heero's body in an expression of love only to find out that he didn't feel the same way. She had delighted so much in their intimacy; it was such a shock to learn how little regard he must have given to it, and likewise to her. "It wasn't what I imagined for myself. I wanted it to be worth more than that. I wanted to feel like _I_ was worth more than that. I wanted it to be loving. I wanted it to be beautiful."

Olivia blinked at her. "I really don't think that having had sex with the first love of your life is such a big thing to get upset about. Who knows? You might have regretted it more if you didn't. I mean, it's terrible that that he didn't love you the way you wanted, but you can't predict that and it doesn't mean it was all bad."

Relena lifted her head in amazement. "What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying that it doesn't matter whether or not he loves me if he's going to sleep with me?"

"No, if it matters to you, then it matters. I'm just saying don't blow it out of proportion. In general I think a lot of girls expect more than they get when it comes to sex."

Relena just stared. "What do you think I should have expected?"

The other woman flushed. "Don't be angry. It's not necessarily you. I'm just saying that, realistically, sex isn't the experience most people expect it to be, especially girls. Not that it's our fault exactly. I mean, as a gender we're told a lot of lies, or nothing at all, and encouraged to believe a lot of nonsense about Princes riding white horses down from the clouds to rescue us from mediocrity by carrying us off to be married in castles. But honey, in case you're still holding out, I'm here to let you know that men like that don't exist."

"I know that," she snapped. She had told herself that same thing a hundred times. "But telling myself that Heero isn't perfect and that I shouldn't expect too much is what got me into this is the first place. I never said what I wanted so I got nothing. What are you saying? That I should just take what I can get?"

"No, but it sounds to me that you're talking as if what you expect out of a _relationship_ and what you expect out of _sex_ is the exact same thing, and that only one kind of relationship and only one kind of sexual relations is acceptable. If that's what you believe to be true, then those are your expectations, but you can't expect _everyone_ to believe that."

Relena leaned over her knees and rubbed her temples. "You're saying what everyone says: That I'm too idealistic." She shook a little in her chair, little anxious tremors passing through her body. Olivia had hit a cord close to her heart and it struck her like a bell. "I already know this about myself. I know it makes people uncomfortable, and that it even makes people hate me. I just don't know how to make myself believe in anything less than I do."

Olivia's expression was sympathetic, not judgmental, and she spoke softly. "You just need to communicate your expectations."

"Why?" she asked rhetorically, even bitterly. She knew that what Olivia was saying was true, for she had tallied up all of her mistakes already, but it didn't make her less angry, or more forgiving of either Heero or herself. "Wouldn't that just scare them all away? My ideals have never been popular."

Olivia shook her head. "Miss Relena, forgive me, but don't say that. If you must know, you are like a hero to me. Just not for anything remotely related to your love life, and especially not your sex life. There are a lot of other people I could lobby and possibly with quicker results, but the thought of having your ear, of being able to talk to you about a cause that is so passionate to me… Miss Relena, you inspire people. So many impossible things that you have believed in despite all opposition _happened_. Don't you see how incredible that is?"

"But it's an illusion," she said. "You just said so yourself. Not just with Heero, but everything I've done. The peace we have today… I didn't create it. The Sank Kingdom that _I created_ was destroyed, and no law or treaty or supposition I have ever submitted has materialized the way I envisioned it. All that we have now is the workings of larger bodies of people, not me."

"But illusions _have to_ _die_ before they're worth anything! Relena, if not for your grand visions, nobody would think beyond what they can see from their bedroom windows. You give people a rainbow to chase, a star to shoot for, a dream to believe in, and even if it turns out to be a mirage, people are inspired to work together to realize some aspect of the illusion. Don't you think that is worth something? Having dreams like yours to believe in—even if they don't look the way you thought they were going to look when they are realized—is better than having no dreams at all."

"Is it?" she asked, not really able to look at Olivia or see herself in the other woman's eyes. It was clear why she and Olivia had never really become friends, despite all the time they had spent together. The other woman idolized her, and it was not possible to build an honest friendship on a dream. That was the way it was with nearly everyone she knew. They all loved her at a distance, as a sort of icon to admire, but up close she was frustrating, difficult to please, and just too good to be real. She just expected too much out of everybody.

She thought of Heero and her illusion of a shared life with him—no, the illusion of _him_ she had built in her head and had forced to belong to her. She had tried to make him real, her idea of him, at least, and to make that idea her own, to make the whole dream real. And it just wasn't.

She truly was a fool.

But what of what Olivia had said? If she stopped pretending and enabled herself to see Heero as he was, and their relationship as it was, as it _really_ was, could something good, or at least better, come out of it? Anything had to be better than the hate she felt for Heero now and the self-loathing she felt for herself at having been deceived and used by someone she had loved. But what good could possibly come from that? Would he come to love her after all, to believe in her dream as she did? No. It was useless to think of what might be. No matter what she did, she could not change Heero's heart.

And the condition of his heart was painfully clear. Heero didn't love her. He had never loved her. Maybe he couldn't control that, but that wasn't what made her feel so angry and so hurt. If he didn't love her, why had he never mentioned it? Why hadn't he told her she was delusional before she had given everything away? Instead he had taken her out, kissed her, held her, persuaded her to stay over, _slept_ with her… and never felt the need to tell her that it wasn't for love. What had it all been for then? What could he possibly say to her that would make any of that okay?

Her hand crushed the little paper cup from the dispenser into a mangled, misshapen shape and she tossed it into the trash.

She didn't know what their relationship had looked like to Heero, or why he had chosen to remain silent about his feelings, and she wasn't sure she wanted to hear his side of the story. After all, if his explanation, whatever that might be, somehow took away her anger, then she would have no one left to blame and everything that she had felt up until now would be _her_ fault. She was afraid that if she let him talk, she would give him a way to make excuses. After all, if he didn't love her, why bother caring how she felt now that things were through between them? She was terrified that her heart would give in to him whatever he said and that she would take the failure of the relationship as a personal flaw, internalizing it as something that she was solely responsible for, and she was tired of doing that all the time. Why did love have to be so painful?

"Miss Relena?" Olivia said worriedly.

"I'll be okay," she said tiredly.

The truth was she was depressed, and angry, and disappointed, and she didn't know how to expel those feelings from her system when their object was too callous to be hurt. She didn't want to hate Heero and she didn't want to be disappointed in herself, but she didn't know how to feel any other way with the past nipping at her heels with unanswered questions and her emotions sparking into a furious fire at every irritation.

At this point, all she wanted was to be left alone.

* * *

Heero patrolled the hallways just behind the auditorium with a loaded gun tucked onto the holder at his waist, checking every empty room for anything suspicious and ducking out of sight suspiciously himself whenever he heard someone coming. As he wore a Preventor's coat and headset that Trowa had wordlessly handed to him when he stepped off the bus, it was not event staff or security that he was hiding from. 

He had carefully deliberated coming here at all, had mapped out precisely what he would do should any unexpected event take place, including all disasters involving a terrorist attack or rabble-rousing riot, but what he was not sure about was what he would do if he somehow ran into Relena.

So he kept out of sight as much as possible.

He knew he ought to forget worrying about her and just do his job, but even as he executed every aspect of security by the book, he couldn't stop thinking about what she would do if she saw him, and what he would say in return. The more he thought about it the more things he thought of to say. Maybe he was feeling guilty over Mandred and was thinking what the older man would advise he should do, which would certainly involve talking to Relena, but though there was plenty that had been left unsaid, Heero wasn't sure that saying it would change anything for the better. All he knew was that he was uncomfortable with the way things had ended.

She hated him. And though he would never admit it, that piece of information stung worse than any physical blow she could have given him. It wasn't that he loved her, nor that he ever had, but his feelings for her were more complicated than he suspected she believed. He certainly hadn't wanted to hurt her. He definitely didn't want her to hate him, or expel him from her presence.

He figured it was best to avoid her. Showing up when she had specifically ordered him to stay away would only hurt her further and it would be painfully awkward besides. He didn't think he could hide the fact that he had been thinking about her, and even missing her when the sun went down and he was alone in his house, but he didn't want to send her the wrong messages. Her presence livened things up somewhat, and having a woman to take care of made it easier to forget the past and the lacerations it had left on his mind, but taking comfort in Relena and missing that comfort didn't mean he loved her. He saw now that he had looked at things too simply. He enjoyed their intimacy, her gentle touch, her softness, the smooth quality of her skin. For whatever reason it just hadn't occurred to him that she would read so much more into it so quickly. He had gone into the whole thing expecting little but the satisfaction of his curiosity, knowing it would be difficult enough just having the same someone around all the time. He hadn't thought that he would be expected to learn how to interact with a woman and fall in love all at once.

The complication inherent in a relationship was more than he had prepared for. He wasn't used to dealing with his own emotions, much less someone else's. And his ignorance had hurt them both.

He had lied about not being affected by the war. Or if he hadn't lied outright, he had avoided talking about something that was clearly a dark cloud in his mind. Certainly it had a powerful bearing on where he was at now; after all, until a few years ago it was all he was. It might be that he was not ready to love anybody and his timing with Relena was simply off, or maybe someone else would be better suited to his needs. He didn't know, but he after seeing how much his silence had hurt her, he realized that it was unfair not to have told her so. He thought that maybe he was afraid of ruining the image of him that she has crafted so exactly in her mind.

When he heard voices approaching from the other end of the corridor, he slipped inside the room he had just checked, listening with his back pressed up against the wall to the sounds of boots pacing the wood floors.

"I thought he went down this way," a familiar voice said in a mystified tone. "Heero?"

Replacing the gun in its holder, Heero stepped out from behind the door into Trowa and Duo's eye line, on hand gripping the edge of the doorframe. Trowa met his stare blankly, stopping to cross his arms over his chest, but Duo blinked in surprise. Heero was also surprised. When Trowa had called him in to help with the security, he hadn't realized any of the others would also be present.

"There you are," Duo said, scratching his head. "I was just about to call Quatre and see if he knew where you were."

"Quatre's here too?" Heero asked darkly. "Why so many? What's going on?"

"What do you mean?" Trowa asked him. "I told you we're unsure what kind of threat this is. I called in anyone who might be able to help. Quatre is in the lobby. He's here for business reasons. He's not decked out as a Preventor, but he agreed to keep an eye out for anything suspicious."

"What exactly are we looking for?" Heero asked. "I've been through all these corridors and I haven't seen signs of anything suspicious yet."

"Wufei and I were both sent an anonymous tip that something might happen during the speeches," Trowa answered. "We don't have any leads and we couldn't track down the informant. I told you that you didn't have to come, but I thought you might want to be present, especially since the situation is not contained."

Heero didn't say anything. There was an awkward moment of silence.

"Um, Relena will be introducing Avery as he makes his acceptance speech as a candidate for ESUN president in a few minutes," Duo ventured. "Shouldn't at least one of us be in the auditorium to make sure nothing happens?"

Both he and Trowa turned to look at Heero, Duo curiously and Trowa with a flicker in his eyes that might have been disapproval. For the way he had treated Relena? Heero returned both their looks with a leveling stare that could knock them both flat. "She doesn't want me to protect her," he said tonelessly. "She doesn't want to see me ever again. I don't want to risk her even knowing I was here."

Duo whistled and shook his head. "Man, I'm sorry. Girls screw around with your head." Heero grunted, but didn't say anything. Duo was clueless sometimes, but he appreciated the loyalty.

"You'd never forgive yourself if something happened to that girl," Trowa said. His expression had not changed a whisker. "What happened between you that she doesn't even want you around to protect her life?"

Heero let nothing show on his face, controlling his voice so that every sound had the same tone and intensity as the ones before and after its utterance. "It's none of your business." The truth was it was too painful to talk about. Relena had told him she hated him, that he killed her just by being around her. He wanted her to understand what he felt for her, that it wasn't love, but it certainly wasn't indifference, and that the way things were now was starting to kill him too. But he didn't know how to say it. No one else had to know anything about it.

He turned to walk away. "I'll keep an eye on the stage," he said over his shoulder, "but get someone else to guard the doors. That's too obvious a location."

"Wufei can do it," Trowa called back. "You should stay on the East wing. No one will see you in the shadows on that side, but if there's trouble, we'll be counting on you to get anyone unprotected on stage somewhere safe. You'll be closest if anything happens."

"Try to see that it doesn't," he said, and headed for the auditorium.

* * *

"He's going to be mad if he finds out," Duo said, putting his hands behind his head and looking up at the ceiling where the lights hummed from behind their glass casings. 

"He won't find out if you don't blab about it," Trowa told the other pilot brusquely. "Just do your job the way you're supposed to. There are more people here besides Relena and we don't want anybody hurt tonight."

Duo sighed and followed as Trowa started checking rooms where Heero left off. "How do you even know something is going to happen? What exactly did this guy say?"

The message had just appeared on Trowa's computer, and Wufei's as well he learned later. A window had opened while he was comparing numbers for a routine investigation and a simple question wrote itself before his very eyes in pale green letters across a black background. There had been no name, no address, and no way that knew of to trace the message. "He informed me about the speech that Tom Avery is giving tonight, and that Relena was going to be here to introduce him. Then he told me that there is going to be an incident, and that I had better have people I trust in place to secure the area."

"He didn't say Relena specifically was in danger?"

"No," Trowa said, "but it was implied that whatever is going to happen has something to do with her. That's why I called Heero, or one reason anyway."

"Why did our mystery man contact you, I wonder? You're not even a full-time Preventor."

"I don't know." The message had vanished as soon as he responded and he hadn't been able to trace it in any way. Whoever it was, they had some pretty fancy equipment.

"Why would anyone attack Relena just for introducing someone else?" Duo said in a puzzled voice. "It doesn't make any sense."

Trowa had no response to that. Relena hadn't been as politically active in the last year as she had been in the past. No one had even thought to supply more that the standard security detail tonight for her sake. If anything, it was Avery who needed to be guarded carefully, but he had his own people in place for that. It really was a strange time for the Vice Foreign Minister to be under threat.

"Just remember what you're supposed to do," Trowa told Duo.

He waved a negligent hand in the air. "Yeah, yeah. I get it."

* * *

From backstage, just behind the curtain that separated her from the eyes of the crowd, Relena took a brief moment to stand alone in the dark and collect her thoughts. Behind her, backstage, Tom Avery was speaking softly to his aids. In front of her, the audience was packed, silent after the general introductions, waiting for her to appear with almost breathless anticipation, waiting to hear what she had to say in endorsement of the man who would govern them. Thinking of their expectations gave Relena the strength to smother her lamentations and push Heero from her thoughts. 

When she stepped out onto the stage, it was with a mind cleared of all its shattered fragments.

The roar of voices hit her like a wall. Bright lights dazzled her eyes and cooked her skin under her clothes. She walked with a confidence mastered with practice, arms swinging freely at her sides and her heels clicking solidly on the wood panels under her feet. When she looked out over the audience, the mass blur of faces made her stomach flip in a familiar way. She smiled and waved as she approached the podium and the roar intensified, sending prickles of delight down her back and across her arms. No matter what her state of mind, there was a thrill in being representative of so many people. It challenged her heart and soul.

"Good evening," she called out when the tumult died low enough to give her the chance to speak. "We're here tonight to welcome a great man's dedication to the people gathered here in this room." Her voice resounded powerfully around the room, reaching every crack in every wall. She had their attention from the first word and held it throughout her speech. She began by reminding them who she was via the work she did to unite the interests of the people of Earth and the Colonies, and then segued into the expectations individuals had to create and maintain the society they wished to live in. Finally the told them about the credentials of a man who hoped to facilitate the people's expectations on their behalf. She had to be creative in boosting Avery's integrity, falling back on rhetoric and some political jargon to communicate a sense of security that she felt a united people should have in their leader.

Her eyes scanned the audience as she spoke, straight-backed and confident behind the podium, her hands flat on the wooden surface. She couldn't make out many of the individual faces, but by the doors she saw Wufei, leaning against the frame with his Preventor's jacket hung open and loose on his shoulders. She thought he might have smiled at her, and at the same moment she returned the smile, her eyes meeting Wufei's across the room in a flicker of acknowledgment, she caught a glimpse of Prussian blue eyes emerging from the shadows and following her stare from the sidelines.

Her heart almost stopped.

At that exact same moment, an explosion knocked her flat on the stage.

Screams erupted around her, people surging to their feet in the audience as the lights above the auditorium exploded and a rain of sparks showered down over the crowd. Darkness dropped over the room like a curtain and smoke filled the air, smelling of an electrical fire and a strange chemical smell like sulfur. She heard her name ripped from more than one throat as boots pounded onto the stage, the smoke obscuring the faces of the people rushing toward her. Winded and stunned from her fall, Relena lifted her head to peer through the smoke emitting from the lights above and from wherever the explosion took place. In the wings, she saw Tom Avery being surrounded by body guards, retreating into the darkness, his face pale and his hands shaking.

From the audience she heard crying and the sound of a child screaming.

Anger coursed through Relena's slender body. She rolled slowly to her knees and then to her feet, kicking off her heeled shoes as she fumbled for the microphone. "Stay calm, everybody. Please. There are Preventors in the room. Stay calm."

A hand shot out of the darkness and grabbed the microphone from her hand. "Do you want them to know where you are? Come with me." He seized her wrist, his other arm wrapping around her waist so that he half carried her away from the chaos.

"Heero?"

She followed, stunned by the surrealism of events, one of her fantasies blossoming to life around her as if she were in a dream. She felt her knees weakening in the strength of Heero's arms, the comfort of his body close to hers, the smell of leather and cologne on his skin making her dizzy with desire. A sound that could only be gunfire rang through the air and Heero moved to shelter her with her body, pulling her into the deeper darkness backstage.

It was only after she found herself alone with him in the room with the doughnuts and the coffee that she managed to gather her wits. She heard him shut and lock the door, wedging a chair against it, and while he was busy with that she went for the light switch, knowing there wasn't even a window to give them away.

He turned to face her when the lights came on, beautiful blue eyes glowing out of a face that stared at her with layers of determination and concern, a face she slapped with a full-arm swing, her palm striking him cleanly across the cheek so that his face turned automatically away from the burning fury in her eyes.

"Heero, _what_ are you doing here?"

TBC in the final chapter.

I didn't edit this chapter. I haven't even read through it with a cleared mind yet. So if you read the draft version, be forewarned I may reupload it later. I'm just not sure i'll be around the next few days and i wanted to get it out. Thanks everyone! Please review.


	25. The Beginning After the End

It's been a long time… and it's a looooooooooooooong chapter. Give yourself plenty of time. There are author's notes at the end.

* * *

**Desires of the Heart**

Chapter 25

By Zapenstap

The slap was hard enough to turn Heero's head, and for a moment he just stared at the ground, hands hanging limply, half doubled over from the force of her arm.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, livid and shaking, possessed by a fire that flared in her heart and burned to fury behind her eyes. "How _dare_ you come here?"

She knew he meant only to protect her, that he desired nothing more that to save her life, but in a way it was a sore and bitter knowledge. She was only a body to him, whether on a personal level or as a purveyor of peace, merely a conduit for his needs. At this stage of their intimacy he thought of her as a figure and gave no thought to how she felt—it was insulting.

Seeing him so unexpectedly in such a situation had flooded her with feelings that harkened back to a time before they had ever touched and rushed straight through the illusion of their relationship to the climax of her heartbreak. Her love of Heero bloomed, climbed and dived in the space of two thudding heartbeats. Her rage now was half imploring, a screaming plea for the suffering to stop. "Are you _trying_ to hurt me? Do you have so little regard for feelings? My one remaining desire is that you would just stay the hell away!" Her voice climbed steadily until it rose to a shout, reverberating around the walls of the small enclosed room. "I hate you, Heero!"

His eyes turned to her first, a rich dark blue glancing sideways at where she stood only a few feet away, his profile still tilted down toward the floor. Then he straightened and turned to face her.

He didn't say anything.

He didn't have to.

Relena pulled back, fingers curling into her palm as she withdrew her arm and fell back on her heel. The skin on the palm of her hand tingled slightly, though it couldn't have hurt nearly as much as Heero's cheek must be stinging. The imprint of her hand was an angry red on his face, at least three of her fingers clearly outlined around the cheekbone, but what was more striking was the expectant, almost resigned look in his eyes. He just stood there without reacting, looking at her as if he was attending her funeral and was the one responsible for her death.

That expression unsettled her, confusing her thoughts, piercing through her anger and dismantling her resolve. She couldn't summon words to speak or conjure insults to hurl, not with any truth anyway. She wasn't sure what she had expected. He could have grabbed her arms, pushed her away, retorted angrily, or even hit her back. He might have winced or growled or yelled or demanded to know who the hell she thought she was. She had expected something that would have fueled her fire to fury, to allow her license to lay it on thick and dispel all the painful emotions stacked up in her breast. She had built up a torrent of soul-shredding accusations that she had been sharpening for weeks; preparing to unleash upon Heero a deluge of verbal abuse in response to her grievances should he dare to give her reason to use it.

He had given her reason just by coming here, but she hadn't expected him to silently endure her rage, or that even the tiniest shred of companion on his side would disarm her this way. She definitely hadn't expected to see such resolution in his eyes in seeing her, and hadn't thought out what it would do to her to see him. Being near Heero now—after having spent the last few weeks trying to forget his face—was like having been smothered in darkness and surrounded by aching cold only to be offered the sudden presence of a candle, a weak, flickering light that was illuminating, but also cold, unfeeling, and unaware of her need for it. All she had wanted in banishing Heero from her presence was to extinguish that light, to kick Heero where it hurt until he broke or fled or disappeared, to destroy her dependency on his brightness just to prove she could face the darkness alone… and yet, she didn't really want to live in darkness. Confronting him this way—furious at having to see him when he had ordered him to stay away and yet aching with the need to have him near her again—was like trying to break down a rock wall with her fists, a wall she would much rather cover with roses.

"I told you not to protect me," she said, and found herself unable to meet his eyes, though she glared at the coffee pot fiercely enough to shatter the glass, clenching her fists and shaking from her shoulders to her knees. "I told you that I didn't want to see you." When she saw him in the audience she had felt butterfly wings tickle the lining of her stomach and moonbeams burst inside her skull. When he pulled her off that stage her heart had exploded into fragments of iridescent glass, and she had responded by clinging to him with every inch of her being. She could still feel the leather of his coat on her fingers and the touch of his skin as his hand had wrapped firmly but gently around her wrist. "I thought I had made myself clear."

Heero still didn't say anything.

Instead he turned back to the door and checked the security of the lock and the chair he had wedged under the handle. She looked up, but his attention did not return to her. Without looking in her direction, he took out his communicator and turned it on. Her insides boiled.

"This is Heero Yuy. The Vice Foreign Minister is secured." There was a reply, but the volume was so low Relena couldn't make it out clearly. She thought she heard that someone was coming to check on them, but it was almost indiscernible. "Yeah," Heero said in response, and then listened. He listened acutely, his face blank as a board, deadly handsome even without expression. He listened cleanly and clearly, devoting all of his attention to the task at hand, almost gentle in his reception and careful handling of the situation. Relena watched him as if through a window, and the bitterness in her breast waxed to a sharpened point. "Yeah, I'll take care of it. Over and out." The words dropped from his lips in low, distinct pronunciation. Then he switched off his communicator.

"Is everyone all right?" Relena asked in quiet, controlled tones, automatically diverting some of her attention toward assuming responsibility for the repercussions of whatever had happened in the auditorium, but even as she mapped out a contingency plan by which to handle the situation politically and humanely, the emotional side of her was still besieged by the man standing stock-still before her, a man who seemed perfectly content to disregard her existence. Her heart beat spasmodically, as if it were a rock being tossed in her chest by an unconcerned child.

The silence stretched as Heero avoided her eyes, staring at the junction straight ahead of him where the wall met the floor. She waited as he shifted his gaze to scan the room, observing the placement of the furniture, noting all of the objects on all the desks and counters and evaluating the lack of any extra windows or doors. She waited until he turned away without looking at her, shifting his gaze to the door and checking the lock again.

"Heero, talk to me!"

The demand was a whip crack sounded from a pit of pain, a cavern in her heart where her love of Heero had sunk without hope of reprieve.

It was the worst feeling in the world, not even being acknowledged by someone she had loved intimately, someone for whom she had pined for years, who encapsulated all the qualities she had wanted to become, someone she had worried and cared for more voraciously than she did herself, someone she still loved deep in her heart. After all of this—protecting her, loving her, breaking her heart—he could think to _ignore_ her. A desperate, angry feeling clutched her heart until it quivered with pain.

Someone's fist pounded on the other side of the door.

"Heero? Heero, it's Trowa. Are you in there?"

It was then that Heero glanced at her, briefly, and that same resigned expression in his eyes screwed tacks into her stomach. He turned swiftly back to the door, as if the sight of her burned him. "Yeah. What is the situation?" Heero asked. He sounded calm enough.

"Is Relena all right?" Trowa Barton's voice was calm under pressure, possessing a smooth and almost soothing quality that offset the blank coldness in Heero's deeper tones. His question was followed by some indiscernible commentary that Relena recognized as belonging to Wufei.

"She's in here," Heero replied. "What is the situation?"

"The people are shaken up, but no one's been hurt," Trowa said. "Stay with Relena while we finish running the lockdown procedures. The area is contained but not secured."

"Relena will be fine," Heero interjected. "I'd rather handle tactical. Something about this situation is suspicious."

"You're already in position," Trowa returned. "It would be unwise to leave her alone. Just stay where you are. They may be after her."

"Trowa," Heero growled.

"I'm locking you both in."

Relena listened from a distance of a few feet as the sound of keys jangled in the lock on the other side of the door, followed by footsteps retreating down the hallway.

Lockdown. She felt queasy. Who knew how long it would take before the area was deemed safe enough to let them out?

She watched Heero try the handle, twisting the knob first backward and then forward before releasing it and stepping away from the door. He looked at it for a moment in silence, his eyes running over the door from the floor to the ceiling, perhaps guessing what force would be required to break it down, or maybe merely gauging the dimensions of his sealed escape route. Only slowly did he turn to face her.

"We'll be in here awhile," he said quietly, perhaps apologetically, as if speaking to her was an obligation he could now no longer avoid.

She tried to keep her face straight. She wanted to hit him, but all she could manage was to shake her head, a tiny, compressed movement that felt more like a vibration than a turn. She knew her emotions must be plain on her face. She could feel the tension in her eyebrows and the slight press of her lips, everything inside and outside pressing together to keep her expression from breaking. It was like applying just enough pressure to hold together the shattered pieces of a crystal globe; too loosely and the pieces would fall outward, too tightly and they would collapse inward.

"I can't believe this," she said, the words shaken past her lips. "After everything, how can you do this?"

"Do what?"

"Treat me like I'm nothing!"

His expression did not change, which made the measured logic in his voice all the more infuriating. "Relena, you're not nothing. I came here to protect you, even against your wishes, precisely because you are not nothing."

She pressed her fingers to her eyes to feel the coolness of her flesh, taking comfort in the darkness of her thoughts. "I hate this. You don't understand. I wish you hadn't come, but it doesn't seem to matter to you what I wish."

His eyebrows drew together in an expression of resentment, or possibly annoyance. "I can't _not_ protect you, Relena. I do respect your wishes, but I could never allow anything to happen to you that I might prevent."

"I don't know why I'm surprised. You've never done anything I asked you to, especially when it mattered the most to me."

He looked away from her, his emotions a mystery, though she could tell he was thinking by the intensity with which he glared at nothing. "I don't know what you want me to do," he said after a moment. "I don't want you to hate me, but I can't leave you unprotected."

"I don't need your protection."

His face turned grim. When he spoke it was almost in a monotone, all emotion carefully cloaked, even the inflection of his words uttered to reveal not even the tiniest hint of feeling. "I know you don't want me around. I didn't mean to bother you, but when I heard something might happen I came here with the intention that you would never see me. And then…." He shook his head as if to dispel something disturbing, though his tone did not change. Whatever anxiety he might have felt did not escape the confines of his control. "I'm not sure what happened on that stage, but for a moment I thought that even my coming here had failed. I've been trying to stay out of your way, but I don't think I can leave you completely alone, not if it means risking your life. I wish I understood why you wanted me to. I know that I've hurt you, and I know that you hate me…" His control cracked slightly, then smoothed out again as he picked up the pace, "…that you don't want me to protect you, not even to save your life, but you matter too much for me to abide by that wish."

She wished she could sit down without looking weaker than she did already. "Matter to whom, Heero? You don't understand. I hate you because I love you, because I love you and because I know now that my love means nothing to you. You want to protect my body from bullets, but you can stab my heart just by being too near. I haven't been able to think about anything lately except how much I despise myself for giving so much of myself to you to _protect_."

He opened his mouth, but she rode over him.

"How can I honestly think I mean anything to you? You've done nothing but deceive, discount and ignore me since before I was even aware that you didn't care. At that party, you _knew_ I was vulnerable, and yet you left me for those other women. Do you really think I'm so concerned about being shot by bullets when you're around? That's the last thing on my mind, Heero, and it hurts the least, even now, even tonight! I don't need your protection. What I want is for you to let me forget you," she said, and knew it hurt him to hear it. "I want to forget that I ever relied on you, that I ever needed you or loved you. I don't think I can make it alone if I don't forget that."

Heero's face twisted into a contortion of conflicting emotions. Relena struggled to hold onto her own composure, the shattered pieces of her heart cracking under the pressure of her control, fighting to break apart and break her with the collapse. She was too angry to cry, and too proud to let him see her. She didn't need his comfort any more than she needed his protection. She certainly didn't need for him to see her so weak and vulnerable. She hated herself right now. She hated herself around him and everything about herself that had to do with him. It was all a mess, the crumbled fragments of a broken dream.

"I'm sorry about that night," he said at last. "It was confusing. It was too soon. I didn't know what to do."

"You're sorry," she repeated in a voice that lacked both force and conviction. She didn't know what he meant or what to think. Perhaps it sounded mocking.

Heero's eyes took on a brighter, sharper sheen, laying into her with an acuteness that stripped her of her defenses. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he continued, harshly this time, his eyes flashing with the same anger she felt. "I know I screwed up! Stop _looking_ at me like that. Stop thinking up reasons to blame yourself. Stop punishing me. I didn't mean for any of this to happen!"

She felt skewered by his words. "How am I supposed to feel? You deceived me, Heero! You let me believe you loved me and then you treated me like I was nothing! I thought we _meant_ something together. I _believed_ in us!"

She choked as he came toward her, her words sticking in her throat. Heero's stride carried him to her swiftly and purposefully, like a thunderbolt aimed at the heart. He took her shoulders in his hands, gripping her arms and digging his fingers into her skin until she cried out.

"I thought you _died_," he said through gritted teeth. His face and voice were terrifying. "I saw you hit the ground. For a second I thought…"

Her head fell forward like a doll's, but she brought it back up again. "You treat me as if I'm everything one minute and nothing the next. If you can save my life you think you're protecting me, but you don't _care_ about me. You don't care about the way I feel about you. You…"

"Like _hell_ I don't care!" He was trembling so hard that she shook in his grip. "How can you accuse me of not caring? What the hell do you _want_ from me? You want me to romance you, dance with you, talk about everything with you, share my life with you? All my secrets? All my pain? You want me to make love to you? You want to get married and live happily ever after?" He was shouting, his voice not deafening loud as much as it was raw and intense, but louder than she had ever heard it, like a roar in her ears.

She shouted back. "Yes! That's what I want!" She didn't struggle in his grip. She stared him in the eyes, her face was set stubborn and strong, trying to stare him down in spite of the tears, demanding that she should get her way, demanding it because it was right, because she deserved it.

Silently he shook his head at her, breathing hard and mouth slightly parted, seemingly amazed that he had lost so much control. He was still holding her by the shoulders, yet not so painfully as before, and his eyes were locked on her face as if she were the only thing he could see. "You're beautiful," he said, simply and honestly, without breathiness or awe and not meaning it to sound like praise. His hands rose to her head, caressing her hair around her cheeks. "You know that you are, right? You almost make me want…" He hung his head and released her, pushing himself away until he hit the wall and threw his head back, closing his eyes. "I can't do this."

She was shaking. It was so bad she had to hold her own hands to keep them still. She felt better and worse all at once, better at having finally released the worst of her buried hurt, and worse at having to suffer the aftermath, better because he still wanted her, worse because she could have him. She wasn't entirely sure what had just happened or what it meant, but it didn't feel pleasurable or victorious. Having hurt Heero with her words and having been hurt in return, all she wanted now was to escape.

But the door was locked.

"I don't know what you mean," she said, her voice soft enough so that he wouldn't hear the quaver. "When you first reappeared I thought all my dreams had come true. I gave everything I had to that dream."

"Relena." Heero uttered her name softly, like a breeze, a flurry of fresh air that broke from his reserve and washed over her. It was just enough to force a crack in her composure. She turned her head swiftly aside so he wouldn't see her tears. Heero's voice took on a desperate, almost appealing tone, a tone that sounded unnatural on the smooth, dark quality of his voice. "What can I do? What should I have done? I couldn't leave you unprotected." He didn't say anything more, but she could hear him thinking, searching for something to say, knowing that nothing would do. Her decision to order him out of her life, even at the _cost_ of her life, was not a practical resolution, and no rational justification for his actions would emancipate him. Her decision to hate him was not based on any deserving quality, but on a whim to soothe her broken heart. He didn't speak, but pain crept into his face, the pain of uselessness, of despair.

She trembled before such eyes.

"It's not that I would want you to let me die or get hurt," she said quickly. "It's just that it hurts to see you when I can't have you. You're…" She thought of all the things she wanted to tell him, the biting castigation that would in some way compensate for her shredded feelings. She couldn't explain why tears came to replace her words, melting that torrent of reprimands and the all-too-personal lacerations that she had meant to inflict upon him. Tears came despite her efforts to stop them, not because of her loss of love, but because she didn't really want to hurt Heero anymore than he wanted to hurt her.

The realization struck her forcefully, and her both her tears and her anger vanished in an instant.

She took a deep breath. "You told me you never loved me and never meant to." And yet just now he had told her that she was beautiful. Had he almost kissed her before he pushed himself away? What did that mean? What was it that he couldn't do? "What are you saying now?"

Heero propped himself up with his hands flat against the wall, staring down at the ground between the toes of his black boots. "Nothing's changed, Relena."

Her heart thudded heavily and she closed her eyes, steeling herself against the pain but forcing herself to ask again. She mentally prepared for the explanation, numbing her mind and heart by reminding herself that the disappointment had already been endured. Nothing had changed, he said. She had spent weeks thinking out what _hadn't changed_, going over his words, recalling her own regrets, interpreting the meaning of Heero's unspoken desires, trying to understand his feelings and his reasons for them: She wasn't what he was looking for, he cared about her but didn't love her, she shouldn't have had such high expectations, even if the attraction was there, sometimes feelings just wore off and couldn't be called back….etc.

At first Heero didn't continue, though he must have known an explanation was expected. Instead he stood slumped against the wall as still as a stone, staring at nothing, looking inward at something Relena couldn't see. When he spoke it was almost to himself. "I'm not ready for this," he said. "I don't think I'll ever be ready for this. Whatever it is you want…It isn't me."

What she wanted? She lifted her head, studying what she could see of Heero's face from beneath his hair. There was tension in every line, a strain that seemed familiar to Heero by the way the focus of his eyes seemed to direct inward, managing stress that seemed older than this moment, older than their relationship, a struggle that had been going on years before they had ever even met.

It struck her that he was hurting, hurting over something he _was_ rather than the events of a day or a year, hurting as she had always intuitively known, though he had refused to admit it or share it with her. He wouldn't cry, or even acknowledge the pain. Her lips parted instinctively. "Heero…"

She was about to say that it was okay, that she understood what he was fighting and that she could accept him and his past and love it and make room for it. But then it suddenly occurred to her that that wasn't necessarily true. Wasn't the past evidence enough? It was a simple truth that she had things that she wanted, things that she _expected_, an idea of life and love that was very different from anything Heero had experienced. She hadn't realized how deeply her ideas of what love entailed were etched into her existence until her expectations failed to be met. She had always thought she was level-headed, accepting, adapting… But maybe that wasn't true. Maybe she didn't know herself and her desires as well as she thought she did. Maybe she didn't know Heero very well either.

She had thought that he was perfect.

"I've been trying to understand what it is that I want," Heero was saying, and it took her a moment to realize he had spoken and process the words. "I screwed up, I know, but I didn't mean to hurt you. Relena…" He said her name slowly and paused, looking up from the ground, not at her but at the wall, dark blue eyes seeming to glow with the fervor of his thoughts. "At first it was just an idea. I thought I could adapt just by doing what other people were doing, by doing what was supposed to be done. In the past, whenever I thought of you I would think that maybe there was a chance that I could exist and live like other people live. You have always had this faith in me that I've never understood. It's like you think I intend for things to happen the way they happen and that I create it somehow. But it's you who does that, not me. I've never created anything. I just react with how I feel at any given moment. This whole relationship—everything that's happened between you and me—has been like that. I never planned it out or thought where it was going or wondered how my reactions would affect other people. Even you. I assumed _you_ had all that figured out and would make something beautiful out of it without my help. I don't think I can help." He paused, boring holes into the wall now. "I lied to you about the war. I dream about it all the time, even now, almost every night, except for a brief period where I dreamed of you. But that didn't last long. Even before I went out on that mission I knew that things were changing. The dreams came back, and the more serious things got between you and I the more suffocated I began to feel. I knew that I couldn't live up to what you were creating, but it was more than that. It didn't feel right. The feelings I had for you—the feelings I still have for you—are important to me, but they are largely self-serving, something to distract me from everything else; they aren't what you would think of as love. I didn't realize it at first, and I'm not sure I know how to explain it now. I like you and I'm attracted to you, but I don't really want you around. Even without all the expectation, the kind of emotional responsibility that goes into this kind of thing is too much for me to deal with. I don't want to be thinking of you all the time, or to be in any way obligated to you or responsible for your feelings, even though I know I am now whether I want to be or not. I don't know if it really has anything to do with you, whether it's because you're not what's good for me or if it's just the state I'm in right now; all I can say is that this relationship doesn't feel right. I only let it go on so long because I knew it was important to you and I didn't want to destroy what you had created. You seemed so happy."

Relena closed her eyes, taking deep, calming breaths, letting Heero's words wash over her.

"It was a mistake," he continued. "I know I hurt you. I'm sorry I didn't communicate what I…" He struggled, searching for words to explain.

She stood in front of Heero feeling empty, drained of everything except disappointment and hurt pride. He had never said so much to her before, and she wondered how difficult it was, and how long he had been thinking about it. It had occurred to her before that Heero might not know his own feelings, or wouldn't know how to describe them, but she had never really thought of how that would feel to him, or what it would mean for her. All he could say was that what he felt was not what she wanted, and she couldn't disagree.

So what did she want? Clearly it was something unreasonable, as was consistent with her usual flaws. He was right. She had never been content with only Heero. She wanted the dream of Heero, her prince from the sky; she wanted Heero to fulfill a girl's wish of love and romance, excitement and security. When she met him she thought she had found the impossible, a boy whose strength of will was sufficient to give her the strength and courage she needed to move past her pain and embrace a fate of her own choosing. She had thought that her acceptance of him had yielded a bond where she could return the favor by lending to Heero the faith and hope he needed to become the kind of person a peaceful world needed. In a way, maybe it had, but that wasn't her mistake. Her mistake was in thinking that their relationship, whatever it was, was fated or obligated to complete the fantasy that had begun her part of the journey.

Of course she was hurt. She had been like a little girl, a girl whose first dream had been crushed and who thought that life had to go with it. Of course she had taken it hard. She had taken it hard because in addition to idolizing Heero she had also expected perfection from herself. She had wanted the perfect romance, the perfect love, the perfect sexual experience, all leading up to a perfect happily ever after. And why not? She was Relena Peacecraft, or had been once. But that dream had never really been real either. Relena Peacecraft was an illusion, and always had been.

She finally got it. Heero was weak, as was she, and terribly confused at that; he was, as Wufei had explained to her when she was still too self-pitying to listen, hovering between two worlds, overextended to all his frayed edges. Heero came into her life when he needed someone desperately. He had wanted to be good to someone, to take care of someone, to be intimate with someone. He had tried, and failed, to assimilate into a life he had never known.

It was a gesture of submission when her hands fell limply to her sides, a visual letting go of the blame she had so desperately wanted to place on Heero; blame for something that was accidental, or at least not intentional. Indeed, a lot of it was her own fault. If anyone should have been stuck with the responsibility of communicating, it should have been her, she who prided herself on her ability to solve disputes by talking. Of course, knowing it didn't assuage the pain of losing the first love of her life; indeed, in some ways it made it harder, made her feel worse about everything. She still wanted Heero more than she had ever wanted anything, and some part of her was busy thinking how she might change to better keep and love him, but logically, from all that had happened and from Heero's own admission, she knew it wasn't likely, or even in the best interest of either of them, to pursue it any further.

In the end, a broken heart was still a broken heart.

Heero still had not looked up from where he stood, lost in his own thoughts, thinking darkly on the mistakes he had made in the past and numbly on the bleak uncertainty of his prospected future alone.

Relena moved almost automatically toward him, stepping close enough to where his presence flooded all her senses with the feeling of him. She reached out to touch his jacket, smoothing her fingers over the leather and staring at the Preventor's label stitched over the left breast. She was conscious of him shifting to look down at her, could feel his eyes drop from her face to the aimless wandering of her fingers. She wasn't sure what she wanted, certainly not any kind of reciprocation, not now; maybe she just wanted to get her fill, to imprint a memory of Heery Yuy while her certainty and calm lasted.

She didn't expect his arms to wrap around her and pull her into an almost crushing hug, but they did. He pulled her off her feet and slid back against the wall, both of their bodies sinking to the ground in a tangle of limbs and clothes and hair. The hard ceramic tiles felt cold against Relena's bare calves and ankles, but she didn't notice through the warmth of Heero's chest, engulfed as she was in leather, her face pressed into the collar of his jacket and his arms wrapped tightly and comfortingly around her back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her ear, and she began to cry, unable to hold it in when he was holding her. Her tears weren't from anger or depression, but the sorrow that came with loss and disappointment and the knowledge that as soon as she was done crying she would have to let go and go on. But it was different crying in Heero's arms than crying alone, and she clung to him as she cried, one hand wrapping around his neck and the other digging into his shoulder. He held her without saying anything, but his whole body held her close, and gave the impression that no matter what, she was safe.

"I wanted you to love me!" she wailed into his shoulder, and cried out the rhetorical questions she knew had no answers, the questions that couldn't reasonably answered, and yet caused her the most pain. "Why didn't you? Why did I believe you would?"

His hand lifted from her back to smooth her hair, and seemed to smooth her tears out as well. "I'm sorry," he said. "I was careless. I'm sorry."

Her tears stained the leather sleeves of his jacket and she clutched at the material. She cried until her throat hurt, until her eyes were red, her lungs soar and she couldn't cry anymore. When she was spent of all her tears she just stopped, breathing deep to avoid hiccups, closing her eyes against Heero's chest and submerging herself completely in a place and time that did not seem to really exist. A good cry always made her feel as if she were dreaming, like her reality had become a world of all things soft and indistinct, but during that moment of sustained surrealism, her tears dried on her cheeks.

"Heero," she said at last, and knew that he was listening even if he didn't say anything. "I'm sorry that I've made things difficult, but I'm not sorry for anything else."

He stirred, perhaps sighing, breathing deeply so that her head rose and fell with the movement of his chest. "What do you mean?"

"Even though it hurts now, I'm not sorry that I love you. And I'm not sorry that I believed you loved me, or for what we had together. Of all the paragons I've built in my head and idolized over the years, my idea of you and my love for you has meant the most to me. I'm happy I believed in it because that belief has made me grow and change in ways that I could never had conceived of otherwise. But I'm also glad that I've come to see how things really are, even though it has hurt me and even though I hurt you because of it. Whatever else happens, I want you to know that I think I needed this. Knowing you has truly changed me, and even if I mean nothing to you, now or in the future, I'll always be grateful for that."

"You'll always mean something to me, Relena."

She nodded but couldn't speak anymore. It went without saying that he would be in her heart forever, though she might not always love him as she did now. Some part of her would always idolize and care for him; some part of her would always want the best for him, even if it wasn't her, no matter how much that hurt; she would never forget him.

Heero kissed her hair, his lips pressing into her scalp, and she closed her eyes, listening to the sound of silence in this little room that was like its own world to her now. She wanted her last memory of Heero—if a last memory she had to have—to be full of hope and purity, a reflection of the strength and kindness that had drawn her to him in the first place. She would tuck her memory of these moments in a corner of her heart and just remember what it felt like to have his arms around her, trying so hard to protect and care for her, trying to learn how to protect her heart.

"I love you," she said, not with reverence, but simply, just to say it one last time. "I don't know where you'll go or what you're planning to do, but if you're ever ready, come see me."

"Don't wait for me," he said. "I'm serious, Relena. Don't wait. I'm not planning on coming back."

It was a refusal, softened a little to cushion the blow, but also what she expected. Even so, she had to stifle a tight choking feeling in her chest and throat before she could nod, accepting what had to be accepted, knowing that eventually, someday, her heart would catch up with her head. "Okay," she agreed in a whisper that barely passed through her lips.

He hugged her once more, but she shifted for release. If it was truly over then it was time to move on; she couldn't stay here all day and didn't want to. Disentangling herself from Heero, she stood up, stretching her back and stepping out into her own space. She turned to watch Heero wordlessly, containing her feelings for him in her heart, trying to keep them from her face. She had to pretend that she was over it, at least for now. Heero rose to his feet without ceremony, his face impassive and indiscernible. She wondered how he was feeling. Perhaps he was melancholy, regretful, or sad for her, but it was just as likely that he didn't feeling anything, or that he felt content or relieved or pleased. She couldn't blame him for whatever he felt with any more fairness than she could blame herself for her feelings; she was glad that his control over his expressions kept her from seeing it. She knew she wanted Heero to be happy, someday, but she preferred not to know about it just yet. Maybe in a few months…

Heero drew out his gun and aimed it at the lock on the door.

She started out of her thoughts. "Is that all right?" she asked.

He grunted. "Keeping you safe was not the reason they locked us in here."

"Oh," she said, and decided not to comment further, but she put a hand on his arm before he pulled the trigger, halting the shot that would open the door and free them from the room as well as one another's presence. "Heero, there's something I would like you to do for me if you're not in a hurry."

"There is also something I need to take care of. What is it you need?"

"I need to return to the auditorium. The Preventors would have kept everyone in the same place and I need to be with them. I feel responsible for those people. They could be in a panic, or injured..." She took a deep breath, hardening her resolve. "Did you see Avery?"

"He retreated," Heero said without emotion. "He's probably left the building. It would be the sane thing to do."

"Will you escort me onto the stage?" she asked. "I would like to finish my speech, but I can't walk on that stage unguarded. I think my return would be would be more calming if a Preventor was to be visibly seen protecting me."

He nodded. When she had nothing more to say, he turned his attention back to the lock on the door. Realigning his target, he fired one clean, straight shot, the expulsion of the bullet muffled by a silencer.

The handle clattered to the floor, deadbolt and all, and the door swung open.

Fresh air rushed into the room and Heero and Relena wasted no time stepping over the threshold. Outside in the hall, just a little ways away from the black floors that marked the official backstage behind the auditorium, anxiety hovered in the air like a gray veil, the murmuring buzz generated by a crowd of nervous people hushed in fretful apprehension. No one graced the backstage behind the curtains, neither event staff nor technician assistants or the faintest hint of security. It was in the auditorium, a place Relena could not see behind the curtain, that an audience waited for a resolution. Their voices rumbled like a small earthquake in a desert, muted and constrained, but too charged to keep silent; it was an atmosphere indicative of control but not serenity, safety but not security, acceptance but not happiness.

Relena identified with those feelings, her heart connecting to the hearts of those who waited. She understood that feeling of expectation, of waiting so long for something that the wait became more unbearable that the lack of that which was waited for. She also understood the confusion and dread that an unforeseen disaster could stir in the heart when the expectation went unfulfilled. For the people in the auditorium, those feelings were bound to the shock that an attack on their leaders had sparked in the breasts. They had come tonight expecting to celebrate a formal announcement of a decision they knew had already been made. They had expected to see Relena endorse Tom Avery as a candidate for the ESUN Presidency and secure their future happiness; instead they had seen Relena struck down and watched while Avery abandoned them. What portent must their words carry as they sat together and pondered the blunt and clumsy instrument of fate?

Today was the day she would put aright all her recent mistakes.

Relena glanced at Heero's profile in the gloom, not for comfort, but as a reminder that from now on she would have to rely on her own strength. Being alone with him here was not the same kind of privacy that they had shared behind closed doors, but it was intimate in a different way. Once, before they had become as they were now, the thought of standing together with Heero on the tail end of a crisis would have filled her with conviction and the determination to resist opposition and rebuild whatever had been broken. Now she felt only the calm of inevitability, accepting the course of events as she might a natural disaster no one could have foreseen or stopped, and for which there was no one to blame and nothing to resist. All that was left was to survey the damage of the ruin left by calamity and quietly begin to pick up the pieces—not to rebuild, but to go on. And that was strength too.

As if sensing her thoughts, Heero turned his head to meet her eyes and gave her a nod.

"Thank you," she said, and meant it for everything, even the pain in her heart, pain she would use to strengthen her resolve and reshape her spirit. It was also—in some ways—a farewell.

Taking a deep breath, Relena walked forward, stepping away from Heero and entering the wing beside the stage where light spilled into the gloom shaded by the curtain. Heero followed her swiftly, flanking her doggedly, but also like an insubstantial shadow. As they emerged into the golden light of the stage, the murmurings of the crowd hitched and sputtered into silence. Heero drew eyes with the dangerous stride of a man who had never failed to complete a task to which he was assigned, no matter how violent or perilous, but it was Relena who caught hearts. Relena flowed onstage like the rush of wind or the flood of water, her fluid and measured steps attracting glances in a wave that began on one side of the auditorium and spread fiercely to the other. As eyes landed on her figure, illuminated as she was under the stage light, voices ceased to sound, and by the time she reached the auditorium, she had drawn the undivided attention of every person in the room. Heero stopped a few feet from the curtain, but Relena continue forward, crossing the stage alone until she reached the podium that had been set for Avery in the center of the stage. She paused behind it, her gaze sweeping across the room in an unhurried assessment of those who were present to listen to her speak.

The stared back, astonished faces lit with sudden interest and hope, those who were not seated sinking down where they were, even on the floor in the aisles. They looked at her as if she were an apparition, and as well they might if the explosion that knocked her flat on the stage had been aimed to kill her and after which she had suddenly disappeared. She doubted the Preventors would have allowed rumors to spread that she was dead or injured when they knew she was neither, but rumors could never entirely be controlled without solid proof. And now here she was.

"Good Afternoon," she said into the microphone, and her voice echoed compellingly in the silence. She knew they expected her to tell them to remain calm, to comment on her own well-being, or to announce that the perpetrator of the explosion incident had been caught, but nothing could have been further from her mind. The calamities of the past were in the past. It was time to move forward.

"I would like to make an announcement," she said. Heero glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, seemingly curious, though he had not asked what she had intended when he had the chance. Ignoring him, she waited, noticing some members of the event staff scrambling to signal the operators of the TV cameras that the Preventors had no doubt ordered off during the confusion, and then continued as if her lengthy pause had been planned only for its dramatic effect. "I come to you tonight as Relena Darilan, Earth's elected Representative to the Colonies and Vice Minister of Foreign Affairs, and I stand before you now as a woman grievously appalled." When she spoke it was with the fluidity of a practiced speech, her voice reaching out to every ear, pausing frequently so that the impact of each word rang out distinctly in the still and empty air. "Tonight you have witnessed firsthand evidence that, in spite of all of our work in the last few years, the world is still not a safe place. This incident was misdirected, and should not dissuade us from continuing here what we set out to do. I applaud you for the courage and faith with which you have continued to support peace through a commitment to open communication, understanding, honesty, fairness, and credence toward the development of greater felicity between human beings. These are goals not easily attained, and some would warn you of the danger of believing too strongly in the frailty of such ideals, but in lieu of events which occurred earlier this afternoon, I can only stand amazed at your tenacity. I said a moment ago that I come before you appalled, but my dismay is not in regard to the misdirected incident you have witnessed tonight, nor for any failing of yours, but because I have come to believe that I myself have not been living up to the standards in my day-to-day life that I have just so faithfully endorsed as our global purpose. I have been diligent but shy in my responsibilities, and as I am still learning and growing through my relationships with other people I do not possess all knowledge as how to best attain the qualities in myself that I so highly esteem in the spirit of humanity." She took a breath, feeling herself stir with life, trembling not from nervousness, but the passion of sincerity. "However, I do not believe that my weakness is cause to doubt, or reason to lose hope. It is through understanding our flaws and failures that we are inspired to do great things. It is therefore with unwavering surety that I have made a decision I did not anticipate making, but in which I believe with all my heart."

A breathless silence descended over the auditorium, as if no one dared to breathe lest some disturbance should disturb the sanctity of the moment. Relena lifted her chin, blue eyes flashing as they caught the light and matched her voice to the sure, steady rhythm of her heart.

"I wish to dedicate my life to the pursuit and the protection of humanity's frail hope that this world can be an ideal place to live, not in the realization of an impossible ideal, but in anticipation that the tempering of real life experience will render us wise enough to achieve a richer life and fuller hope in keeping with our goals. It is with this aspiration that I announce my own intention to run for the position of President of the Earth Sphere United Nation."

Even before she finished speaking, a roar erupted in the cavernous hall. Relena stood behind the podium stunned, blinking into a sudden blinding flash of cameras, her heart drumming to a sound she slowly recognized as thunderous applause. Her gaze swung to all corners of the room, meeting the faces of the people who cheered for her. As she turned her head, she caught a glimpse of Heero vanishing back into the darkness of the wing, too late to say anything to stop him, and knowing there was nothing more to say. Already there were other people climbing up onto the stage, Preventors who had never been gundam pilots and official figures from her work, men and women she had told numerous times that she had no ambition of running for the presidency. Olivia was laughing as if Relena had played a good joke on her. Some of her other associates and assistants looked discontent, not for her choice to run she was sure, but because she had announced her intentions so suddenly and they would be working all night, probably for weeks, to catch up to her announcement. She would have to designate a campaign staff quickly, and would likely rally people to her side who had already agreed to campaign for Avery. He would be furious with her, she knew, but it didn't matter. Win or lose, this was what she wanted, and she was ready to give it everything she had, to erase what could not be and build a new dream on new materials of her own ability and her own making.

It was time to move forward. It was time to reclaim what had been lost.

* * *

As soon as the applause began to sound, Heero took leave of the stage, acquitting Relena to the glow of the golden lights, lights that set her hair afire and made her white-arrayed figure blaze like a star. Heero's eyes swung away from Relena to the back of the audience where a man stood staring, not at Relena, but at him. It was someone he had not expected to see, but he was pretty sure that the other fellow meant for him to take notice. As soon as Heero acknowledged the man's attention by returning the gaze from the shadows of the right wing of the stage, the other man turned abruptly and left the room, slipping out the double doors in the back that led directly out into the lobby.

A moment later, a figure in a Preventor's jacket followed.

And with that, the last pieces of the puzzle came neatly together.

The first thing that Heero noticed as Relena prepared to give her speech was that there hadn't been any damage to the auditorium. A few lights had apparently blown their fuses, but there was no shattered glass, scorching or marks on the floor, stage, or walls. Even the audience hadn't seemed overly rattled. While he listened to Relena speak, Heero had swept the crowd, assessing the mood of the audience for the sort of fear and panic that ought to have accompanied an explosion, chemical fire, or a shooting in a public place, but most everyone had been focused on Relena, concerned for her welfare, but not worried about their own. They had panicked enough when the lights exploded overhead and Relena hit the stage, when smoke obscured the stage and a smell like sulfur hung in the air, but he supposed that once the Preventors took control, Relena's safety was confirmed, and the air was cleared, everyone calmed down. Only Relena had suffered from whatever had caused the explosion, and it was likely she that everyone had been talking about.

In truth he supposed he had not saved her life, but what had been saved as a result was equally valuable.

After the doors to the lobby swung shut on the heels of the Preventor, Heero lingered for a moment in the wings, satisfying himself with a final glimpse at the woman whose heart he had broken and who for some reason had thanked him for it. He had expected her rage, and also her tears, but it was only in those last few minutes when he had held her that he realized how frail she was, how frail they both were, and how strong she must be to respond to the crisis of their situation in a way that had soothed, if not healed, even the deepest of their mutual wounds. It felt now that it was unfortunate but unavoidable that things should have settled this way. It was unfortunate that it was still true that what she wanted and deserved, he couldn't give her, and unavoidable that the romance and commitment she wanted from him was probably something he would never be able to give anybody; indeed, Relena might be the only woman he was likely to meet in a lifetime who understood him well enough to really accept him. Though she did not say it, he felt when she forgave him, understanding his inability to make her happy in spite of her bitterness, and he knew it when he suddenly admitted to understanding how she felt, and regretted his carelessness in hurting her. After that it was like a storm had passed, leaving nothing but the lonely landscapes of their souls swept clean of debris, and a feeling that could only be expressed in silence and comfort of each other's arms.

He was thankful too. Subconsciously he had entered into a relationship with Relena to discover if he possessed the necessary faculties to carry on a normal human relationship, if he had the ability to love and be loved as other people experienced romance, if he was in fact just a boy like any other, and to that he had his answer. Now that it was over, he knew what he had to accept about himself and what he had to do.

The tumult of voices receded as Heero turned away from the woman he had tried to love and made his way through the silent hallways toward the lobby. He walked down white tiled passages in silence, mulling over in his head the words he wished to speak, much as Relena had done for the people who adored her and sacrificed so much to aid her in building a world only she had the strength of conviction to believe in, the people she had neglected while pursuing and puzzling over the desires Heero hadn't satisfied.

It was a surprise when Duo emerged suddenly from a corridor that crossed through Heero's own, and interrupted him in his thoughts. Heero slowed when Duo stopped to wait for him, looking nervous and shifty while pretending not to be.

"Uh…. Hey, Heero… I didn't realize you were….um, patrolling. So, uh, how is everything?"

Heero ignored the question. He didn't think Duo was involved in the deception of tonight's incident, not what had happened on stage anyway, but he probably knew about Trowa's decision to lock him in a room with Relena, and doubtless had already done all the patrolling and completed all the lockdown procedures.

"I need you to do something for me," he said instead.

"Uh, sure. What do you need?"

"I need you to take care of my dog."

Duo blinked, scratching his head. "Why? Are you going on vacation or something?"

"I'm going to Space, and I don't know for how long. I can't take him with me. I don't know if I'll be able to take care of him. Didn't you say that Hilde could use a dog?"

"Yeah, but I meant like a puppy or something. No offense, Heero, I'll take him if you want me to. It's just that you caught me a little off guard."

"He's a good dog. He'll keep a good watch. His name is Ted."

Duo laughed.

"What?" Heero demanded.

"I just always found that to be a strange name for a dog."

"That was the name he came with. It's just a name."

Duo coughed and swallowed his mirth. "Yeah, yeah, I know." He glanced at Heero sideways, seriously, as if considering something. "Are you going to be leaving soon?" When Heero nodded, Duo sighed. "Then I guess I'll pick him up tonight? He'll probably miss you, you know."

Heero didn't say anything. Some things just had to be.

"Okay, well unless you have anything else… No? Well, I guess I'll be on my way then." He strolled passed Heero, hands stuffed in his pockets and humming as he went, but the tune was less lively than it could have been, and as soon as Duo turned the corner, it stopped altogether. For a moment, Heero stood alone in the crossroads between the two hallways, looking the way Duo had gone and wondering if he was still walking or if he was waiting to see whether Heero would move on first. Duo always hid his cares, masking his troubled thoughts and internal struggles behind a nonchalance that was so consistently practiced that Duo could suspend seriousness behind the guise of good cheer and actually _be_ happy. In this way he was able to relate to others, but Heero did not think it was something he could do himself. It seemed counterintuitive to him that relating to other people would involve pretending to be someone else or pretending to feel differently than he did, and what he found counterintuitive he had difficulty putting into practice. But then, many things about human relations seemed strange to Heero. It was merely evidence that he had missed something along the way, and to make his own way in the world, he would have to find his own path

Nodding to Duo in silent tribute and farewell, he turned and continued walking down the hallway in the direction where he had begun. He walked until the hallway opened out into the lobby from a side passageway that was a more indirect route than the double doors in the back that led straight into the auditorium when they were opened. The lobby now was emptied of the throng of people that had occupied it before the events of the day began, and the cold marble tiles could be seen marching in endless rows from the auditorium to the glass doors and windows that looked out into the street. A glance through the glass revealed an expected lack of relief vehicles in the street to respond to any distress call, nor any local or international press save a few bored individuals who had been sitting outside on the steps even before the doors had opened the first time to let the crowd in. It was confirmation enough that—as expected—no distress call had ever been made.

Three figures stood on the far side of the room not far from the glass doors, hidden partially from the outside by a large stone column and seemingly not overly concerned about being seen. Heero observed them silently from the entrance to the hallway that lead backstage from the long way around, assuming that they knew he was there, and wondering what he was going to say.

Before he had stepped out onto that stage Heero had expected to confront Trowa, Duo, Wufei and possibly Quatre to account for the disturbance that—before he had it reasoned out—had forced him to break his promise to Relena. What he hadn't been able to figure out was _why_ any of those four people would rig anything. None of the former Gundam Pilots were acquainted well enough with his and Relena's situation to have known how to act, and as far as he knew, neither did they possess the incentive. They might have felt sorry for Relena, and perhaps even for him, but stepping into his private affairs in such a dangerous, impersonal way would have taken a brash, almost insensitive approach.

Therefore he was somewhat relieved to discover that none of the gundam pilots were at fault.

Or not completely at fault. Wufei had seemingly known something about it; enough to follow the figure Heero had exchanged glances with out into the lobby with expectation rather than surprise, enough to know not to make a distress call for a situation that did not require it. He was one of the three figures in the room, standing with his arms crossed in his Preventor's coat and an expression on his face that was half thoughtful and half a scowl as he exchanged words with the two older men who faced him.

One of the older men, the one who had caught Heero's eye in the auditorium and held it transfixed for several heartbeats, said something to Wufei that startled the other pilot and seemed to make him angry, or perhaps indignant. He was not anyone Heero knew well, other than by vague association, but Heero hadn't forgotten him either, and wouldn't have been able to forget if he wanted to. Ranlath had come to his house in the middle of the night, breaking and entering without leaving a trace and without any sort of remorse; he was one of very few who could gain Heero's attention with a glance and hold that attention on a point, and did it seemingly with unconscious expectation. His stature was impressive, tall and bold without losing either grace or subtlety, and his eyes smoldered with an internal fire, as if his mind were an active volcano that could erupt at any moment, not in anger, but as a sheer force of nature.

But it wasn't Ranlath that concerned Heero at the moment, absorbed as he was in what appeared to be a one-sided conversation with Wufei, who listened with his arms crossed and said nothing. Neither of them even looked in Heero's direction, though doubtless they were both acutely aware of his presence.

Only Mandred turned his head to acknowledge him, the expression on his face withdrawn and melancholy, seemingly beyond sorrow to the point where sadness could not be separated from serenity. Heero's emotions constricted as if stopped in a bottleneck, his breath catching in his throat and his heart snagging at air, ceasing to beat for a few counts and then starting up again in rapid, painful recovery. As he approached he expected Mandred to speak, but though the man's eyes acknowledged Heero, and though he nodded at him to join them, he said nothing.

"So can I tell the others that all is clear?" Wufei asked. He glanced sideways at Heero as he approached, but waited for an answer in the affirmative from Ranlath before turning to leave. "I guess I'll go then. It's been a pleasure working with you." As he passed Heero, he put a hand on his shoulder and paused long enough to speak quietly for Heero's ears alone. "She looked better," he said. "You did the right thing." And then he continued in a straight line toward the auditorium.

"So," Ranlath interjected suddenly, "what of it? How is the girl?"

Heero stifled his surprise at the complete lack of preamble, harsh brevity of the question and the tone that demanded an answer. "She's better," he said. "We talked." Slowly, he turned his back to Mandred. "Did you set this up?" he asked. "To force me to talk to her?"

"Does it seem like something I would do?" Mandred replied. "I was tricked into coming here the same as you. Ranlath cares little for the manner in which things are done as long as the results are satisfying." He turned to look at Ranlath. "Are you satisfied?"

"When you agree to come back with me to adjust the fenestration of my windows, I'll be satisfied."

"The ones upstairs or downstairs?" Mandred asked.

"Downstairs. Why the hell would I solicit you to meddle with the ones upstairs?" He turned a pointed glare on Heero. "Your incompetent carelessness has caused me significant delays."

"This is about business?" Heero asked darkly.

"Everything that isn't about boredom is about business," Ranlath said. "And I certainly didn't come here to entertain myself."

Heero knew it wasn't about Relena, despite the obvious association. Most certainly this was about Mandred, and specifically the callousness with which Heero had treated him, though he had not known the impact of his words at the time. It _was_ carelessness, and if sensitivity was a skill, he probably deserved the incompetent label as well. He supposed he was still a child in some ways, particularly the manner in which he failed to realize the impact his words and actions and assumptions had on other people, especially those he viewed as untainted and untouchable, such as Mandred, or even Relena. Mandred had been a teacher to Heero, the seemingly-wise, indefatigable, solidly-situated sort of teacher that he thought he could push or even punch and not hurt. In a temper over matters that had little to do with Mandred and everything to do with himself, Heero had done just that, and unwittingly and unthinkingly hurt the man deeply.

"I didn't know," he said hopelessly. "I didn't know you ever had kids. I didn't know they died. I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry."

Mandred regarded him for a moment with interest before speaking. "You meant some of it," he said, "but I'm not angry with you. You're not responsible for not knowing. If anything, I am the one who was in error. When I first met you I was struck by your situation and I took liberties with you I should not have taken. What you have had to deal with was hauntingly familiar to me in some ways, though I never told you those stories, and in wanting to help I think I overstepped my bounds. You're right to say that I'm not your father, and that I have no business or authority to meddle in your affairs half so much as I have. In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have become as entangled with you as I did. For awhile you became like a surrogate son to me, and it was painful to be reminded that you are not and to remember a loss I've never fully accepted. It's taken me some time alone to work that out, but that is not your fault, though I will accept an apology for any rudeness you might feel sorry for." He paused, looking Heero over carefully. "You're planning to leave, aren't you?"

Heero didn't know what to say, but his silence was affirmation enough, and Mandred only nodded.

"It's natural enough," Mandred said. "I think maybe I forced you into doing what you weren't ready for, and now you have to go back to where you started to forge your own path. Don't think my recent absence and melancholy moods are your fault. It's memory of my own struggles that plague me. You were never a burden."

"You sound like you're leaving too," Heero said.

"I am. I'm moving back home."

"Are you getting married?"

"Yes."

"Fat lot of good it will do you," Ranlath interjected. "I like Immilie. I find her to be intelligent and reasonable, but as a whole, women are more trouble then they are worth, and they think even worse of us than we do of them."

Heero grunted, though he didn't mean to agree. "Are you married too?"

"I've never been married. I never intend to be married. I don't have the patience to take care of anyone indefinitely. I have work to do, and research. I don't have time for romance or any of the harrying social obligations that that kind of thing entails."

"There was one woman who wanted to marry him," Mandred laughed, and it was pleasant to hear. "God only know why. He would have none of it, though. Their affair lasted for years once she gave up trying to keep him. It didn't turn out so terrible."

"Only because I didn't marry her," Ranlath maintained. He turned his attention on Heero with eyes that flashed. "As for this girl of yours that has caused us all so much trouble, I recommend leaving her alone for at least ten years, longer if she is the emotional sort. And if you ever feel inclined to see her again for any reason, just be sure to tell her that you don't want to marry her. Unless she is stupid or manipulative, that will head off most of your problems."

"Maybe one year," Mandred amended.

"I'm not planning on coming back," Heero said.

"Not now," Mandred replied, "but you never know what will happen in the future. For now you are heading home, but someday you may wish to trace your steps back to this place. If that event ever arises, be kind, be clear, and trust your instincts."

There was a moment of silence that Heero realized signaled the end of things. He had said his apologies and received his last piece of advice, and now it was time to go and figure things out for himself.

Mandred smiled at him. "I wish you the best of luck. I know you'll be looking for work. If I need you for anything, I will let you know, pay you for your troubles."

"Thanks," Heero said. "For everything."

It was sunset when Mandred and Ranlath took their leave, walking together out the glass doors and disappearing from view around the corner of the building. The sky burned with red and orange flames that faded to a rosy pink and smoldering gold as the sun set behind the buildings blocking the skyline. Through the glass doors, golden filaments of light streamed in to cast tiny rainbows on the walls and play tricks on the dappled tiles. Heero stood alone with the sun in his face and his hands in the pockets of his coat, staring out at nothing, listening to the sounds of voices in the auditorium as people began talking and gathering their things like a crowd after a sports game or a movie.

When the double doors opened, people streamed out and around him, all talking at once, about everything from the explosion of the lights in the auditorium to Relena's campaign for ESUN president. Whether she had a chance of winning or not this late in the game didn't seem to be as interesting as the fact that she was running, but even that topic was lost amidst the flow of human bodies and the stream of human voices that swarmed and parted around Heero.

He stood in the lobby until it emptied of everyone, and then waited longer, standing like a stone in a room that was as hollow and stark as a museum until it seemed he would wait forever. At length he moved, striding forward and pushing his way through the glass doors and out onto the white concrete steps of the building. From the west, the last rays of the sun hit his eyes, and he covered them with his hand to see his way, his shadow lengthening up the stairs as he descended halfway down the steps and out of the glare. To the east, he could see over his shoulder the first of the evening's stars glittering down from above.

He heard footsteps first, a quick patter of heeled shoes on tiled floors and then on concrete. He turned to see Relena descending to join him, and could only hold out his arms to catch her when she fell against him in a hug.

"Thank you for staying," she whispered. "Wufei told me."

"I didn't want to take off without saying goodbye," he said, and gently removed her arms from his neck. "Are you okay?"

She smiled at him, a sad smile that was honest even if it was pained. "I'm going to miss you," she said, "but I'll be okay."

He nodded, his thoughts a jumble of lamentations and regrets, emotions that floated without strings in a void of loneliness that swallowed everything else. It wasn't going to be easy for him either, but he was relieved because these emotions were honest, and that was what he wanted most.

"Heero," Relena said. "I know you have no obligation to contact me and I'm not even sure it would be a good idea, but if every once and awhile you could let me know you are alive and well somehow, I would be grateful."

"Okay," he agreed. "Take care, Relena."

"Take care," she said, and then turned and walked away.

On the steps they parted, Heero walking the rest of the way down alone and heading northwest toward the spaceport on the sea while Relena returned to the building where a sea of adoring fans and dedicated members of her staff awaited her return, people who loved and admired her remaining behind to rally for her campaign.

Later, Relena would tell people how she had once loved a man who was dangerous, though not dangerous to her, a man she had loved deeply and timelessly and would never forget. She would tell people that theirs was a romance beautiful, but brief, and that she had learned more from this relationship than any other in her life. It had taught her about love and weakness, about desires and dreams, and the difference between ideas and reality. Heero wouldn't tell anyone a story, but he would remember a relationship with a girl he admired and cared for, a girl who had shown him both the strengths and frailty of love, and taught him to accept life in its failures and imperfections. From each other they learned the potency of desire, and the value of knowing their own hearts.

With the sun setting and twilight approaching, shadows lengthened and darkened the surface of the earth, but they were visible and somewhat beautiful when thrown into relief by the glimmer of golden-pink light in the west that signaled the end of a day.

Fin

* * *

**Notes from the Author:**

Hello everyone and thank you for reading my story! I've been writing it for… geez, almost three years now. During that time I have been through not one, but two relationships, both of which were influential, but neither of which this story is actually based on. I've laughed at myself frequently while writing this story because when I started it, Relena was definitely the main protagonist as I identified the most with her in real life… By the end of the story, I switched sides and became the person who had to end a relationship, which really helped me sympathize with Heero more. It's easy to make mistakes on both sides of a breakup and neither is particularly easy (though overall I'd say it's better to be Heero).

I would also like to say that had the ending of this story planned out since the beginning, though I didn't know exactly how it would unfold, and that it was REALLY hard to disappoint all of my 1xR Forever fans that have been holding onto what they know to be the _truth_: that Heero really does love Relena. I'm also a 1xR fan, but I wanted to do something different this time because what happens in this story more aptly reflects my real experiences and I know I'm not alone in this! I wanted to use Heero and Relena for this story for the very reason that their fans are convinced of the longevity of their relationship, because they _know_ that these two people are perfect for each other, and will ultimately end up happily ever after. This is also how Relena feels in this story, so if readers didn'tbelieve this, then what Relena goes through in this story wouldn't have been affecting, because the worst part about a first breakup is coming to the realization that _forever_ isn't really so long after all.

Even though the ending is bittersweet, I hope you enjoyed it! When I began it, I honestly didn't think it would be very popular and was surprised by the reviews it's received. Thank you very much to everyone who has reviewed even one chapter of this story and many more thanks to those people who have reviewed consistently for multiple chapters. You are the inspiration when my creativity dries up (which it sometimes does when I'm too busy with work and school to write) and I really appreciate your words of encouragement and most especially your feedback. Thank you very much!

Please let me know what you think of this chapter and the story as a whole. It took me a week of writing (everyday after work until midnight) to get this chapter out. It is very long, and very emotionally draining, and there were times when the writing was so painful that I just couldn't get the words to fit together right. There were also times when it flowed and was fun and I'm really curious which parts of the story you liked best, so please let me know.

I would like to give a special thanks to Mizaya for Beta-reading some of these chapters (not all of them—sometimes I was too lazy to edit or was in a hurry) and to thank readers for their patience in putting up with the long waits between updates. Life gets busier the older you get and I struggle for writing time these days.

I would also like to give a shout out to the word "fenestration" which appears in this chapter because there was a point during the writing when I became so drained of creativity that I started reading the dictionary for inspiration. It totally worked.

And finally, I word of promotion for the other projects I have going:

FMS is going to be updated, I swear. Mizaya is supposed to write the draft, but she's been busy with some Ron and Hermoine Harry Potter fanfiction recently, and it's been well worth her energy. Please be patient with us as we can only do one thing at a time! I am also writing a fic for Princess Tutu called Advent of Glory, in addition to an analysis website for which I would _love_ visits, feedback and contributions! It's an excellent--if overlooked—anime, particularly if you like fairytales, and _especially_ if you have any interest whatsoever in the art of dance. I think I will also be continuing my Evermore fic for Fruits Basket, though nowadays the summer isn't really less packed than the school year, so we'll see how it goes.

Sadly, now that I've written the ending, I don't think I'll write an epilogue for DotH unless some unforeseen inspiration comes to me. It feels pretty finished. However, because I know some of you must be disappointed with the ending of this story and because I was inspired while I was finishing this last chapter of Desires of the Hearth, I will shortly be uploading a 1xR lemon, edited for FF, but posted in full on Blissful Ignorance. It came to me as an AU-ish idea for this story (it won't be an appendage; just a similar premise), and might spawn into an arc of lemons. Lol.

Thank you very much for everything! I really enjoyed writing this fic and I hope you will leave your thoughts about. I'm sure I'll be hanging around my computer all night just to read them.

Best wishes,

Zapenstap


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